Nothing apparently could be more simple, seeing that, before Captain Bowood knew what had happened, he found himself securely handcuffed.
‘Ha, ha—just so. Queer sensation—very,’ he exclaimed, turning redder in the face than usual. ‘But I don’t care how soon you take them off, Mr Inspector.’
‘No hurry, Captain, no hurry.’
‘Confound you! what do you mean by no hurry? What’—— But here the Captain came to a sudden stop.
The inspector’s black wig and whiskers had vanished, and the laughingly impudent features of his peccant nephew were revealed to his astonished gaze.
‘Good-afternoon, my dear uncle. This is the second time to-day that I have had the pleasure of seeing you.’ Then he called: ‘Elsie, dear!’
‘Here I am, Charley,’ came in immediate response.
‘Come and kiss me.’
‘Yes, Charley.’ And with that Miss Brandon rose from her chair, and with a slightly heightened colour and the demurest air possible, came down the room and allowed her lover to lightly touch her lips with his. It was a pretty picture.
‘What—what! Why—why,’ spluttered the Captain. For a little while words seemed to desert him.