"Here!" came an angry shout from inside. "Who's that? What the
devil----"
"You low ole caitiff!" said William through the keyhole.
"Who the deuce----?" exploded the voice.
"You base wretch, like wot she said you was," bawled William, his
mouth still applied closely to the keyhole.
"Let me out at once, or I'll--"
"You mean ole oppressor!"
"Who the deuce are you? What's this tomfool trick? Let me _out_! Do
you hear?"
A resounding kick shook the door.
"I've gotter pistol," said William sternly. "I'll shoot you dead if
you kick the door down, you mangy ole beast!"
The sound of kicking ceased and a scrambling and scraping, accompanied
by oaths, proceeded from the interior.
"I'll stay on guard," said William with the tense expression of the
soldier at his post, "an' you go an' set her free. Go an' blow the
bugle at the front door, then they'll know something's happened," he
added simply.
* * * * *
Miss Priscilla Greene was pouring out tea in the drawing-room. Two
young men and a maiden were the recipients of her hospitality.
"Dad will be here in a minute," she said. "He's just gone to the
dark-room to see to some photos he'd left in toning or fixing, or
something. We'll get on with the rehearsal as soon as he comes. We'd
just rehearsed the scene he and I have together, so we're ready for
the ones where we all come in."
"How did it go off?"
"Oh, quite well.
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