Presently he returned, accompanied by a brown-bearded sergeant, who recognised Langton as having been witness in a motor-car accident in Cumberland Terrace a couple of months before.
The sergeant pressed the button of the electric bell for a long time, and though we waited anxiously there was, of course, no response.
“I’m certain somebody is within,” declared Langton excitedly; “I saw the light quite distinctly.”
“Very well, sir, if you’re certain,” replied the sergeant gruffly, “we’ll have to force an entry. But remember, if you’re mistaken, it will be a trifle awkward. The owner might come upon you for damage.”
“I’ll stand the racket of all that,” declared the young man readily. “There are thieves in here, I’m certain.”
“It may be only a maid who has a visitor, and who believes her master, or young mistress, has returned,” I suggested, full of apprehension at the alarming discovery which must be made as soon as the police entered and searched the place.
“Then all the worse for her, sir,” answered one of the constables grimly.
And again they banged at the door and continued ringing. All, however, was silence and darkness.
What would they have thought had they known that I had allowed the mysterious Kirk, who had been lurking there, to escape?
Had I acted foolishly in doing so? I was forced to the conclusion that I had.