"He is a relative of mine—a ne'er-do-well, who has given considerable trouble to his friends," said Olivant. "He has been waiting outside in the street for some hours, on the chance of getting hold of me. The present dispute is about a lady."
"Constable, I demand to have these rooms searched; I mean to prove that this man is lying!" cried the boy excitedly. "He says—says the lady's here—and it is a lie!"
"You'll understand, sir, that I've no power to search this gentleman's rooms," said the constable; "and I've no right to inquire into any dispute about a lady or anything else. For your own sake, sir"—he was talking in an easy argumentative fashion to young Millard—"for your own sake, you'll go away. If you stop here there'll only be a breach of the peace committed, and you'll get yourself into my hands. If this don't blow over by the morning, I'm much mistaken; in any case, you can't create a disturbance here. Much better go away."
"I tell you I——" He made a sudden leap to pass the constable, and to reach the door of that inner room; but the man was too quick for him: he caught him by the arm, and deftly turned him towards the door; hustled him out of the room into the little hall. I was close at hand, and I heard what the man said.
"Now, sir, you're behaving very foolish. Go away, and go home and think about it; then see if you don't thank me in the morning. Come on now."
I put in my plea also, and presently the boy went away in a moody silence. The constable walked quietly after him, and as I ran down too I saw the man standing at the outer door leading into the street, looking after the boy as he strode away.
"A bit hot-headed, your friend," he said. "Lor' bless you, I've seen 'em like that a few times, and then ready to laugh about it next morning."
I went back to the rooms; there I found the startled manservant peering out at the door of the flat. He drew me inside, and carefully closed the door: seemed disposed, indeed, to question me.
"I give you my word I don't understand it," said the man. "Because, you see, there's never been any lady 'ere at all; an' nobody couldn't have got in without passing me. Now, what I argue is——"
I thrust him aside, and walked into the room. There I found Murray Olivant lying back in a chair, shaking with laughter, while Dawkins and Jervis Fanshawe stared at him wonderingly. Seeing me, he sat up, and shook his head at me whimsically, and went off into another shout of laughter.