"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. We knew our parts, anyway."

"I think the village will enjoy it."

"Anyway, it's never very critical, is it? And it loves a melodrama."