The Henniker marched with stately tread from the room, and up the stairs to her own apartment. It seemed a long journey to us, who sat listening in breathless silence, and at last the closing of her door seemed to resound all over the house.
“Now then,” said Smith to Shankley and Philpot, who, with their shoes off and their tools in their hands, stood ready, like two trained assassins, for the word of command. “Now then, and keep quiet, whatever you do!”
They went. There was nothing stately about their march. They darted up the stairs two steps at a time, and the last we saw of them was as they turned the corner into the passage, at the end of which was situate the enemy’s fortress.
It seemed a year before they returned!
At last Shankley, with beaming face, burst into our midst.
“It’s all right!” said he, in an excited whisper. “She sounded a little like kicking, so Philpot’s keeping guard. We had one screw half in before she even heard us.”
“What did she say then?” asked three or four eager questioners.
“She wanted to know who was there, and if we wanted to speak to her we must wait till she came down, and a bad mark to whoever it was for coming and disturbing her.”
There was a general laugh at this, which Smith hurriedly checked.
“The thing’s only half done yet,” he said. “Time enough to laugh when the other two are safe.”