“Yes.”
“Here, miss? Why, miss, he’d rouse the house!”
“Not if we tied up the bell-pull first!” she suggested.
But Modest Ann was aghast at the thought. “Lord, miss, he’d only have to open the window and shout! And there’s the parson walking up and down the road, and the fat’d be in the fire in two twos!”
“So it would,” Henrietta admitted reluctantly. “I see. So you must just entice him here, and say I’ll be down from my bedroom in three minutes. And I hope he’ll be patient. As for you, you’ll know no more than that I asked you to fetch him, and said I should be with him at once.”
“Well, they can’t touch me for that,” Modest Ann said; and she agreed, but with hesitation. “I don’t think he’ll be so simple,” she said. “That’s a fact. He’ll not come up.”
But he did. He walked straight into the trap, and Henrietta, who was waiting in ambush in the dark passage while he passed, sped downstairs, and would have escaped by the back door without meeting a soul, if Mrs. Gilson had not by bad luck been crossing the yard. The landlady caught sight of the girl, and raising her voice cried to her to stop. For an instant Henrietta hesitated. Then she thought it prudent to comply. She returned slowly.
“Come, come, miss, this won’t do!” the landlady said tartly. “You’re not going off like that all of a hurry! You bide a bit and consider who’s bail for you.”
“Not you!” Henrietta retorted mutinously. And as this was true, for the Gilsons’ bail had been discharged, the first hit was hers.
“Oh, so you’re saucy now, miss!” the landlady retorted. “Brag’s the dog, is it?”