She went to her father’s easel and looked at the sketch, whispering:
“What an extraordinary person, Daddy.”
“Yes, dear,” whispered her father, “a bit potty, but absolutely harmless. I’m a bit vague as to where he comes from. He was brought here by a boy and will, I suppose, be fetched. He imagines that he’s living in Charles the First’s time. That’s why he’s dressed like that ... they have to humour him ... but harmless ... quite harmless. I’ve not quite finished with him, but I want some more paper. Don’t let him go till I come back, will you ... humour him ... he’s quite harmless.”
He vanished into the next room.
Robert spoke in a hoarse whisper.
“You sent me that note, didn’t you?”
She began the process of humouring him.
“Er—yes,” she replied fearfully.
“I’ll rescue you,” he hissed, “be ready.... As soon as he’s finished drawing me.... We’ll be at your aunt’s in Scotland before morning.”
“One minute,” she said fearfully and joined her father in the inner room.