"But they will notice that the silver has gone."
"I have a device," he remarked, holding up a fore-finger, in a shrewd way, "for accounting for that. A midnight burglary. A window left open. Do you follow me?"
"Go back now," I suggested, "and bring the goods along as quickly as you can, and I'll stay here, and wait for you."
He seemed doubtful concerning this plan, and I spoke rather abruptly; on this, he agreed that there was much to be said for my recommendation. I inquired where he lived, and he answered promptly, "St. John's Park, Blackheath." I mentioned that this was some distance away, and he could scarcely return within less than an hour. He assured me that he would use celerity, and, with great politeness, declared his regret at causing inconvenience.
I went over to Gloucester Place after closing, took supper with the Hilliers, mentioned to them that I had some dealings with a strange customer, and hoped to make a profit out of the transaction that would compensate me for the trouble I was incurring. At the shop, there were no signs of the professor, and as I sat there in the dim light on a saddle-bagged chair, and time went on, I determined he should suffer for the delay. My hours were too valuable to be wasted. An appointment was an appointment, and should be kept even by middle-aged gentlemen connected with scientific occupations. A policeman went by trying doors, and when mine opened, he glanced in and apologised.
"Working overtime, eh, ma'am?" he remarked.
"Expecting a caller," I said.
"Not afraid of being alone?"
"Prefer it, sometimes. Good-night, constable."
"I can take a hint," he said, glumly.