Nibletts waited. “He’s goin’ to call at my place,” continued the other, “and tell Mrs. Church that I’ve been took unwell at the Cauliflower at Mapleden, and want to see her, and he’s to bring her there at once. Arter they’ve started I go in and get to bed, and earthquakes wouldn’t wake me, let alone a knock at the door. D’ye see?” “What good’s that goin’ to do?” enquired the astonished listener. “Next day,” said Barber, in thrilling tones, as he placed his forefinger on the other’s arm, “I refuse to believe her story. Green, here, denies of it too, and sez ’e saw her at the gate and asked her to go for a walk with him.” Captain Nibletts fingered his beard. “It don’t seem to be the sort of trick to play on a woman,” he expostulated, “an’ it’s four miles to Mapleden. What’s she goin’ to do?” “That’s ’er lookout,” observed Captain Barber, with much composure, “all I know is she won’t wake me. I daresay she’ll come on to your place. Wimmen wot sets their caps at men wot don’t want ’em set at ’em must put up with the consequences.” “You give me half an hour, sir,” said Mr. Green, impressively, “and then you can come on as soon as you like. You’ll find the coast clear by then.” He bit off the end of the cigar presented by Captain Barber, and, thanking him effusively as he struck a match for him, quitted the inn. The two captains waited restlessly for the time specified, and then, finishing their drinks, went outside, and, standing in the light which streamed from the windows and doorway of the Thorn, gazed at the dark road beyond. “It looks all right,” said Barber, shaking hands. “Good-night.” “Good luck,” said Nibletts. The other, not without a little trepidation, walked towards his house, and opening the door, after a little difficulty, stood safely inside. The house was quiet and in darkness, except for the lamp which stood on the parlour-table, and after a moment’s survey he proceeded to shut up for the night. As a rule he was careless about such matters, but to-night no gaoler saw to his bolts and bars more carefully than he did. He returned to the parlour, having made all secure, and lighting his pipe for a few final whiffs before retiring, winked at himself solemnly in the glass. Then fearful that the housekeeper might return sooner than was expected, he blew out the lamp and smoked in the dark. He knocked out his pipe at last, and walked slowly and ponderously upstairs. He grinned again as he passed the door of the housekeeper’s room, and then, with a catch in his breath, clutched heavily at the banister as a soft female voice bade him “Good-night.” Captain Barber, surprised beyond all measure, was unable to speak. “I thought you’d got lost again,” said the voice, playfully. “Good-night.” “Good-night,” rejoined the other, in hollow tones. “Mrs. Banks stay long?” he enquired, pausing at his door.