“Ahem—blockaded?” asked the lawyer.
“A siege en règle!” I exclaimed.
“Let us come farther from the door,” said Romaine, “and reconsider this damnable position. Without doubt, Alain was this moment at the door. He hoped to enter and get a view of you, as if by accident. Baffled in this, has he stayed himself, or has he planted Dawson here by way of sentinel?”
“Himself, beyond a doubt,” said I. “And yet to what end? He cannot think to pass the night there!”
“If it were only possible to pay no heed!” said Mr. Romaine. “But this is the accursed drawback of your position. We can do nothing openly. I must smuggle you out of this room and out of this house like seizable goods; and how am I to set about it with a sentinel planted at your very door?”
“There is no good in being agitated,” said I.
“None at all,” he acquiesced. “And, come to think of it, it is droll enough that I should have been that very moment commenting on your personal appearance, when your cousin came upon this mission. I was saying, if you remember, that your face was as good or better than a letter of recommendation. I wonder if M. Alain would be like the rest of us—I wonder what he would think of it?”
Mr. Romaine was sitting in a chair by the fire with his back to the windows, and I was myself kneeling on the hearthrug and beginning mechanically to pick up the scattered bills, when a honeyed voice joined suddenly in our conversation.
“He thinks well of it, Mr. Romaine. He begs to join himself to that circle of admirers which you indicate to exist already.”