He had called at Eliphalet’s rooms and learnt of his unusual departure, and when the actor did not put in an appearance at the theatre, had hastened out in great alarm to search the neighbourhood.
“It was sheer luck that I saw you through the window,” he cried. “Do you know what the time is?”
“How should I, since it waits for no man?” said Eliphalet.
“You’ve got barely ten minutes to get on the stage.”
This startling announcement brought Eliphalet abruptly to his feet.
“Dear me! I had forgotten. There are so few children in my life. Madam, please,” he placed half a sovereign on the counter, and shook his head at the proffered change. “Give it to them in a bag. Come, Dyson. Ten minutes, you said.”
As they hurried from the shop one of the children asked, “Is yon his keeper, missus?”
Mr. Dyson gripped him by the arm and dragged him along.
“Gave me the scare of my life. How did you come to overlook what the hour was?”
“That’s what I must have done,” replied Eliphalet hazily.