"That'll be all right," returned Billy cheerfully. "I've only got to put the car in the garage; then I shall come back and go to bed. You'd better leave Robert with me. He can have a shake-down here, and we'll stroll round to Bow Street together in the morning."
I don't know how much experience of this kind of work Inspector Neil had enjoyed, but our method of accepting the situation evidently struck him as being both original and entertaining.
"Very well, sir," he said, with a broad smile. Then turning to the constable, he added: "Jackson, you are responsible for this gentleman till to-morrow morning. You will report to me at Bow Street by telephone if you have anything further to communicate."
The constable saluted.
"And ring up now for a taxi."
As the man stepped forward towards the telephone my pretty housemaid, who all this time had been hovering in the background listening to our conversation, suddenly came forward. Her face was very pale, and she was clasping and unclasping her hands in a pitiable state of agitation.
"Oh, what does it mean, sir? They're never going to take you to prison, sir?"
She gasped out the words—her eyes fixed pleadingly on mine.
"It's quite all right," I said soothingly. "You stay on here and look after the house for me. I shall be back in a couple of days."
"Oh, sir," she sobbed, "I hope I haven't said anything I oughtn't to have! They've been asking us questions—all sorts of questions, sir. Oh, I wouldn't have said anything to hurt you, sir—not for the world, I wouldn't!"