“I think,” announced my brother, ignoring my ecstasies, “that I will just run over and inspect a gang at work at the other end of the Flat, and then I’ll join you and we can work undisturbed.”
THE AUTHORESS, MRS. K. COMPTON, WHO HERE RELATES HER TERRIFYING ADVENTURE WITH A HUGE PYTHON.
From a Photo. by W. J. Hawker.
I willingly agreed to this arrangement, as I wanted to practise some hymns for the morrow. To astonish our scanty congregation I thought I would put my musical genius to the test and attempt a voluntary.
Picking up his sun helmet and cane, Malcolm prepared to go.
“Don’t be long, there’s a dear,” I said. “And I think you had better lock the door and take the key, because the door won’t keep shut unless it is locked, and I do not care to have it open.”
“What are you afraid of?” laughed Malcolm, as he went out once more into the sunshine.
“Oh, I don’t know, I’m sure, but when I am alone I prefer to have the door shut.” Still laughing, he turned the key in the lock and went off.
Left by myself in the silent little church, I drew off my gloves and prepared to open the harmonium.