"Joseph!" he bawled.

"Yes, sir," said Mr. Tasker, removing the telescope described by Mr.
Chalk from his eye, and leaning over.

"What are you doing with that spy-glass?" demanded his master, beckoning
to the visitor, who had drawn near. "How dare you stare in at people's
windows?"

"I wasn't, sir," replied Mr. Tasker, in an injured voice. "I wouldn't
think o' such a thing--I couldn't, not if I tried."

"You'd got it pointed straight at my bedroom window," cried Mr. Chalk, as
he accompanied the captain down the garden. "And it ain't the first
time."

"I wasn't, sir," said the steward, addressing his master. "I was
watching the martins under the eaves."

"You'd got it pointed at my window," persisted the visitor.

"That's where the nests are," said Mr. Tasker, "but I wasn't looking in
at the window. Besides, I noticed you always pulled the blind down when
you saw me looking, so I thought it didn't matter."

"We can't do anything without being followed about by that telescope,"
said Mr. Chalk, turning to the captain. "My wife had our house built
where it is on purpose, so that we shouldn't be overlooked. We didn't
bargain for a thing like that sprouting up in a back-garden."