"Yes, sir."
"How on earth did that happen?"
"I could not say, sir."
"How _can_ the door have stuck like this?" said Ann.
Somebody--I suppose it was me, though the voice didn't sound
familiar--spoke. "Perhaps there's a wedge under it," said this chappie.
"A wedge? What do you mean?"
"One of those little wedges you use to keep windows from rattling,
don't you know."
"But why----? You're absolutely right, Reggie, old man, there is!"
He yanked it out, and flung the door open, and out came Ponsonby,
looking like Lady Macbeth.
"I wish to give notice, sir," he said, "and I should esteem it a favor
if I might go to the pantry and procure some food, as I am extremely
hungry."
And he passed from our midst, with Hilda after him, saying: "But,
Ponsonby! Be reasonable, Ponsonby!"
Ann Selby turned on me with a swish. "Reggie," she said, "did _you_
shut Ponsonby in there?"
"Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I did."
"But why?" asked Harold.
"Well, to be absolutely frank, old top, I thought it was you."
"You thought it was me? But why--what did you want to lock me in for?"
I hesitated. It was a delicate business telling him the idea. And while
I was hesitating, Ann jumped in.
"I can tell you why, Harold. It was because Reggie belongs to that
sub-species of humanity known as practical jokers. This sort of thing
is his idea of humor."
"Humor! Losing us a priceless butler," said Harold. "If that's your
idea of----"
Hilda came back, pale and anxious. "Harold, dear, do come and help me
reason with Ponsonby. He is in the pantry gnawing a cold chicken, and
he only stops to say 'I give notice.'"
"Yes," said Ann. "Go, both of you. I wish to speak to Reggie alone."
That's how I came to lose Ann. At intervals during her remarks I tried
to put my side of the case, but it was no good. She wouldn't listen.
And presently something seemed to tell me that now was the time to go
to my room and pack. Half an hour later I slid silently into the night.
Wasn't it Shakespeare or somebody who said that the road to Hell--or
words to that effect--was paved with good intentions? If it was
Shakespeare, it just goes to prove what they are always saying about
him--that he knew a bit. Take it from one who knows, the old boy was
absolutely right.