"I do hope, Mr. Smart, you can arrange to break in about five o'clock.
It will afford me a great deal of pleasure to give you some tea. May
I expect you at five--or thereabouts?"
Her calmness exasperated me. I struck the stone balustrade an emphatic
blow with my fist, sorely peeling the knuckles, and ground out:
"For two cents I'd do it to-night!"
"Oh, dear,--oh, dear!" she cried mockingly.
"You must be a dreadful woman," I cried out. "First, you make yourself
at home in my house; then you succeed in stopping my workmen, steal
my cook and men-servants, keep us all awake with a barking dog, defying
me to my very face--"
"How awfully stern you are!"
"I don't believe a word you say about a sick baby,--or a doctor! It's
all poppy-cock. To-morrow you will find yourself, bag and baggage,
sitting at the bottom of this hill, waiting for--"
"Wait!" she cried. "Are you really, truly in earnest?"
"Most emphatically!"
"Then I--I shall surrender," she said, very slowly,--and seriously,
I was glad to observe.
"That's more like it," I cried, enthusiastically.
"On one condition," she said. "You must agree in advance to let me
stay on here for a month or two. It--it is most imperative, Mr. Smart."
"I shall be the sole judge of that, madam," I retorted, with some
dignity. "By the way," I went on, knitting my brows, "how am I to get
into your side of the castle? Schmick says he's lost the keys."
A good deal depended on her answer.
"They shall be delivered to you to-morrow morning, Mr. Smart," she
said, soberly. "Good night."
The little window closed with a snap and I was left alone in the smiling
moonlight. I was vastly excited, even thrilled by the prospect of a
sleepless night. Something told me I wouldn't sleep a wink, and yet
I, who bitterly resent having my sleep curtailed in the slightest
degree, held no brief against circumstances. In fact, I rather revelled
in the promise of nocturnal distraction. Fearing, however, that I might
drop off to sleep at three or four o'clock and thereby run the risk
of over sleeping, I dashed off to the head of the stairs and shouted
for Britton.
"Britton," I said. "I want to be called at seven o'clock sharp in the
morning." Noting his polite struggle to conceal his astonishment, I
told him of my second encounter with the lady across the way.
"She won't be expecting you at seven, sir," he remarked. "And, as for
that, she may be expecting to call on you, instead of the other way
round."
"Right!" said I, considerably dashed.
"Besides, sir, would it not be safer to wait till the tourist party
has come and gone?"
"No tourists enter this place to-morrow or any other day," I declared,
firmly.
"Well, I'd suggest waiting just the same, sir," said he, evidently
inspired.
"Confound them," I growled, somehow absorbing his presentiment.
He hesitated for a moment near the door.
"Will you put in the telephone, sir?" he asked, respectfully.
Very curiously, I was thinking of it at that instant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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