He rang impatiently. Once—twice—thrice. Then the door was opened some three inches and Donohue’s face peered through the aperture.
“Excuse me, sir,” said that treasure, ignoring O’Hagan’s icy stare; “but would you, sir—I don’t ask a favour often—would you come back in half an hour, sir?”
Captain O’Hagan thrust the door open, and swept Donohue against the wall.
“What do you mean?” he demanded fiercely. “Consider yourself discharged, Donohue! What . . .”
An uproarious banging and shouting drowned further speech. Lady Rundel clearly was afraid to enter. Donohue shrank away before the fierce glare which sought him through the pebble.
“Donahue!”—portentously.
“Sir!”
“What is that unseemly disturbance proceeding from the store-room?”
Donohue, with great hesitancy:
“I’m sorry, sir! You can discharge me if you like—excuse me, sir, you have! But he came here calling you such dirty names, sir, and—excuse me, m’lady—said things about her ladyship!——”