By the time Mrs. Hignett had pulled herself together sufficiently to feel brave enough to venture into the hall, Webster's presence of mind and Smith's gregariousness had combined to restore that part of the house to its normal nocturnal condition of emptiness. Webster's stagger had carried him almost up to the green baize door leading to the servants' staircase, and he proceeded to pass through it without checking his momentum, closely followed by Smith who, now convinced that interesting events were in progress which might possibly culminate in cake, had abandoned the idea of sleep and meant to see the thing through. He gambolled in Webster's wake up the stairs and along the passage leading to the latter's room, and only paused when the door was brusquely shut in his face. Upon which he sat down to think the thing over. He was in no hurry. The night was before him, promising, as far as he could judge from the way it had opened, excellent entertainment.
Mrs. Hignett had listened fearfully to the uncouth noises from the hall. The burglars--she had now discovered that there were at least two of them--appeared to be actually romping. The situation had grown beyond her handling. If this troupe of terpsichorean marauders was to be dislodged she must have assistance. It was man's work. She made a brave dash through the hall, mercifully unmolested: found the stairs: raced up them: and fell through the doorway of her son Eustace's bedroom like a spent Marathon runner staggering past the winning-post.
2
In the moment which elapsed before either of the two could calm their agitated brains to speech, Eustace became aware, as never before, of the truth of that well-known line, "Peace, perfect Peace, with loved ones far away!"
"Eustace!"
Mrs. Hignett gasped, hand on heart.
"Eustace, there are men in the house!"
This fact was just the one which Eustace had been wondering how to break to her.
"I know," he said uneasily.
"You know!" Mrs. Hignett stared. "Did you hear them!"
"Hear them?" said Eustace, puzzled.
"The drawing-room window was left open, and there are two burglars in the hall."
"Oh, I say, no! That's rather rotten!" said Eustace.
"I saw and heard them. Come with me and arrest them."
"But I can't. I've sprained my ankle."
"Sprained your ankle? How very inconvenient! When did you do that?"
"This morning."
"How did it happen?"
Eustace hesitated.
"I was jumping."
"Jumping! But--oh!" Mrs. Hignett's sentence trailed off into a suppressed shriek, as the door opened.