"What are you doing out of your bed, sir?" demanded she.
It was little use delaying matters by a parley, so I replied, bluntly,
"Talking to Smith."
"And I," added the loyal Smith, "was talking to Batchelor!"
"Silence!" cried the Griffin. "Batchelor, dress immediately, and follow
me!"
I did as I was bid, mechanically--that is, I slipped on my
knickerbockers and slippers--and found myself in a couple of minutes,
thus airily attired, following Miss Henniker, like a ghost, down the
long passage. She led the way, not, as I expected, to the parlour, or
to Mr Ladislaw's room, but conducted me upstairs and ushered me into a
small and perfectly empty garret.
"Remain here, Batchelor!" said she, sternly.
The next moment she was gone, locking the door behind her, and I was
left shivering, and in total darkness, to spend the remainder of the
night in these unexpected quarters.
My first sensation was one of utter and uncontrollable rage. I was
tempted to fling myself against the door, to shout, to roar until some
one should come to release me. Then as suddenly came over me the
miserable certainty that I was helpless, and that anything I did would
be but labour lost, and injure no one but myself. And, Smith, too! It
was all up with our precious secret parleys; perhaps we should not even
be allowed to see one another any more. In my misery I sat down on the
floor in a corner of my dungeon and felt as if I would not much care if
the house were to fall about my ears and bury me in the ruins. Cheerful
reflection this for a youth of my tender years!
As I sat, shivering and brooding over my hard fate, I heard footsteps
ascending the stairs. When you are sitting alone in an empty room, at
the dead of night, this is never a very fascinating sound, and I did not
much enjoy it.
And as I listened I could make out that the footsteps belonged to two
people. Perhaps I was going to be murdered, I reflected, like Prince
Arthur, or the two boys in the Tower! At the same moment a streak of
light glimmered through the crack of the door, and I heard a voice say,
"Come this way, Smith."
So Smith, too, was going to be locked up for the night. My heart
bounded as for an instant it occurred to me it would be in my dungeon!
No such good fortune! They passed my door. At any rate, my chum should
know where I was, so I proceeded to make a demonstration against my door
and beseech, in the most piteous way, to be released. Of course, it was
no use, but that did not matter; I never expected it would.
I listened hard to the retreating footsteps, which stopped at the end of
the passage. Then a door opened and shut again, a key turned, one pair
of steps again returned past my door, and as I peeped through the
keyhole I had a vague idea of a yellow-and-black gown, and knew that the
Henniker had gone back to her place.
If only Smith had been shut up next door to me I might have been able to
shout to him so that he could hear, but what chance was there when three
or four rooms at least divided us? After all, except that he was near
me, and knew where I was, things were not much better than they had been
before. So I sat down again in my corner and sulkily watched the first
glimmers of dawn peep in at the little window. It must be about 3 a.m.,
I thought. And that meant four good hours before any chance of a
release came. And as it was, my feet were pretty nearly dead with cold,
and a thin nightgown is not much covering for a fellow's body and arms.
It rather pleased me to think the adventure might end fatally, and that
at my inquest Miss Henniker might be brought in guilty of manslaughter.
It must be breezy, for those leaves have been tapping away at my window
the last minute or so pretty hard. Bother the leaves! And yet, when
you come to think of it, you do not often hear leaves tap as hard as
that! My window will be smashed in if they keep it up at that rate. So
I get up lazily and approach the scene of action.
I nearly screamed as I did so, for there, close up against the window,
was a face! I was so taken aback that it took me a good minute to
recover my wits and perceive that the apparition was none other than my
faithful friend Jack Smith, and that the tapping I had been giving the
leaves such credit for had been his eager attempts to attract my
attention.