He went out of the back door, hastened round to the front, and peeped in at the window. Smail was sleeping on his back with his mouth open, one hand dangling over the side of the sofa. The gas being colourless, Eves had no evidence that the experiment was working until he put his nose to the lower sill and got a faint whiff of the fetid odour. Minute after minute passed, and there was no sign that the gas was having any effect on the sleeper. At last, however, he stirred, sniffed, and looked round the room. Then he got up, looked under the table, under the sofa, examined his basket of provisions, turned up on end two empty beer bottles. Seized with a fit of coughing, he made for the door, tugged at the handle, shouted, then dashed to the window, pulled back the catch, tumbled out, and ran towards the front entrance. Eves had slipped out of sight, but the moment the man’s back was turned he ran to the window, sprang on to the sill, and braving the fumes, prepared to dispute any attempt to re-enter by the same way. Meanwhile Smail was thundering at the front door, mingling curses with cries to be let in. At this signal that the experiment had succeeded, Templeton threw open the door of the store cupboard, extinguished the lamp, and asked Mrs. Trenchard to open all the inner doors and the upper windows, so as to clear the air. Finding the front door closed to him, Smail returned to the window. Eves had now entered the room and stood at the window, holding a poker. Smail approached him, scowling and squaring his fists. "Just you come out o’ that, you young viper," he cried. "You’ve a-tried to pison me, and I’ll have the law of ’ee. That there room’s my room for now; ’tis the law; so get out." "Here I be, and here I bide," said Eves, brandishing the poker. "Don’t come too near, Mr. Smail. You know so much about the law that you’ll be aware you’re committing a felony if you try to force your way in. You don’t want to go to quod again, Mr. Smail, I’m sure. Besides, I don’t think your head’s hard enough to stand a whack from this poker." [Illustration: "’HERE I BE, AND HERE I BIDE,’ SAID EVES, BRANDISHING THE POKER."] "I say, Tom, don’t be violent," said Templeton, coming up behind him. "I’m just explaining," replied Eves. "Cut down to the village, Bob, and fetch old Haylock. He’ll expound the law to Mr. Smail." Smail spluttered and cursed, but he was evidently doubtful on the point of law, and after standing irresolutely in front of the window for a minute or so he turned on his heel and shambled out through the gate. "Splendid, old man!" cried Eves. "There’s no law that I know against making a stink, and he went out of his own accord." "That’s all very well, but the important thing is, will old Trenchard be able to raise enough money to pay off Noakes? I wish Aunt Caroline were here. She’d be able to advise; she’s had a good deal to do with lawyers, one way and another. If I knew where she was I’d wire her."