upset the tea-things and the table in the dart that I made for that window. The suddenness of my rush there checked the scream on Pepita’s lips; she twisted sharply round in her chair, and I knew that she was just in time to see, too. But quick as I was, the face had gone by the time I reached the casement; in what I could see of the narrow space between me and the blank wall opposite, there was nothing. I slewed round again to Pepita, who had half-risen from the table, staring.
“You saw?” I exclaimed. “Didn’t you?”
“I saw!” she answered. “That brown-faced man at the Grange—looking in! Oh, Ben!—what was he wanting?”
“To see what he could!” said I. “Spying round! Pepita!—you can bet your life that chap’s on the hunt for Uncle Joseph! That’s it!—sure as fate!”
“Shall you tell them?” she asked, nodding at the door.
But I had already thought of that. I began to see chances, excellent chances, arising out of this episode.
“Not one word!” said I. “We’ll keep that to ourselves. I’m not afraid of Mandhu Khan—Miss Ellingham says he’s a very faithful and dependable servant. Do you know what I think?—I think that Mandhu Khan is on the track of Uncle Joseph. They’re awfully clever, these chaps, I’m told—see things that we don’t, and are skilled in tracing people, and I should say Mandhu Khan has taken up the search for his mistress’s stolen property, and he’s got an idea that Uncle Joseph Krevin has got it, and is lying doggo here at the Shooting Star. So he comes and peeps in at the window! See?”
“Do you think he’ll tell—tell people at Middlebourne, I mean—that he’s seen us, Ben?” she asked.
“Sure and certain, Pepita!” I declared. “Lucky thing for us that he came peeping round! Of course, he’ll tell! But look here!—if these chaps come back, as they’re sure to when they’ve meditated, as Uncle Joseph styled it, not a word about that face at the window! We’ll keep that to ourselves. And for anything we know, there may be others round about—Cherry, for instance. One thing’s certain, anyhow—if that Hindu chap knows that Uncle Joseph is in this house he’ll hang on to it and him like glue—bet your stars!”
My assurances seemed to revive Pepita’s spirits—though, to do her full justice, she had never shown anything but steady resolve to go through with things—and we sat down again and finished our tea, each of us keeping an eye on the window. However, we saw no more of Mandhu Khan’s brown face and big eyes. Nothing happened; the evening wore on; nobody came; it looked as if we were condemned to imprisonment for the night. And at last, after many nods and yawns, Pepita began to show signs of weariness.
“Ben!” she said suddenly. “I’m sleepy—it’s long past my bed-time. I can’t keep awake!—can’t! What shall we do, Ben?”
“You must lie down and go to sleep,” I declared, firmly. “Nothing else for it! And you can be sure of this—I shan’t sleep! I’ll keep watch. Come on now!—you’re quite safe, and you’ll be asleep in two minutes.”
She hesitated a while, then, with a smile of utter sleepiness, she went over to the bed in the corner and lay down. As for me, I dragged a big chair right in front of the door and took my place in it.
“Good-night, now, Pepita!” I said, in very grandfatherly fashion. “Don’t worry—and go to sleep! I shouldn’t wonder if we find the door open in the morning—it’s my opinion these chaps will make themselves scarce in the night.”
She made no answer for a time: then she spoke, in a whisper.
“Won’t you kiss me good night, Ben?” she said. “I’d feel safer, I think, if you did—somehow!”
I went over and kissed her and she lifted her arms and put them round my neck.
“I’m your girl now, aren’t I, Ben?” she whispered. “Oh, Ben!—if they come back, don’t go running any risks! I know you’re as brave as a lion, but”
At that very minute we heard the bolt withdrawn outside, and I started away from her, and she jumped hastily from the bed, with a startled exclamation.
“They’re here now!” she said. “Ben!—be careful!”
The key turned; the door opened. And there stood Getch. He was in sea-going clothes and sea-boots and had an oil-skin hat pulled close over his face.
“Now, my lad,” he said in a domineering tone that roused my temper, “come on!—and the girl, too! Follow me—or walk in front. Lively, now!”
“No!” I said, motioning Pepita to keep behind me. “Not till I know where we’re going!”
He came a step or two into the room, and he left the door wide.