“Oh, weren’t you? Then a pretty mess you seem to be making. Come into the house; I may want you. So keep your eyes and ears well open.”
I started off at a smart pace. He hesitated, then fell in at my side.
“I beg your pardon, sir, but do you mind telling me your name? I don’t seem to remember your face.”
I strode on, unheeding.
“Now, in you come. And mind what I told you about keeping your eyes and ears wide open.”
I pushed him through the gate. The lady’s wits had been on the alert; she had left the door open.
“Hallo! the door’s open,” I cried. “That looks suspicious. I shouldn’t be surprised if the bird had flown. Servant-girl you thought she was. That’ll be a bit of all right for you. Come into this room.”
I led the way into the sitting-room. So soon as we were in, I began to undo the packet of rope.
“Just look out of the window and see if that’s any one coming in.”
He seemed as if he could not quite make me out, or the whole proceeding. But, after a moment’s delay, he did as he was told. He went to the window. In buying the clothes line, I had tied a slip-knot at one end, so as to form a rudimentary lasso. So soon as his back was turned I had this over his head, tightening the knot: his arms were pinioned to his sides. He struggled fiercely.