back every moment," said Mr. Tasker, encouragingly.
Mr. Tredgold moved his foot forward again and pondered. "It's very late,
but I wanted to see him rather particularly," he murmured, as he stepped
into the room.
"Miss Drewitt's in the garden," said Joseph.
Mr. Tredgold started and eyed him suspiciously. Mr. Tasker's face,
however, preserving its usual appearance of stolid simplicity, his
features relaxed and he became thoughtful again.
"Perhaps I might go into the garden," he suggested.
"I should if I was you, sir," said Joseph, preceding him and throwing
open the back door. "It's fresher out there."
Mr. Tredgold stepped into the garden and stood blinking in the sudden
darkness. There was no moon and the night was cloudy, a fact which
accounted for his unusual politeness towards a cypress of somewhat
stately bearing which stood at one corner of the small lawn. He replaced
his hat hastily, and an apologetic remark concerning the lateness of his
visit was never finished. A trifle confused, he walked down the garden,
peering right and left as he went, but without finding the object of his
search. Twice he paced the garden from end to end, and he had just
arrived at the conclusion that Mr. Tasker had made a mistake when a faint
sound high above his head apprised him of the true state of affairs.
He stood listening in amazement, but the sound was not repeated.
Ordinary prudence and a sense of the fitness of things suggested that he
should go home; inclination suggested that he should seat himself in the
deck-chair at the foot of the crow's-nest and await events. He sat down
to consider the matter.
Sprawling comfortably in the chair he lit his pipe, his ear on the alert
to catch the slightest sound of the captive in the cask above. The warm
air was laden with the scent of flowers, and nothing stirred with the
exception of Mr. Tasker's shadow on the blind of the kitchen window. The
clock in the neighbouring church chimed the three-quarters, and in due
time boomed out the hour of ten. Mr. Tredgold knocked the ashes from his
pipe and began seriously to consider his position. Lights went out in
the next house. Huge shadows appeared on the kitchen blind and the light
gradually faded, to reappear triumphantly in the room above. Anon the
shadow of Mr. Tasker's head was seen wrestling fiercely with its back
collar-stud.
"Mr. Tredgold!" said a sharp voice from above.
[Illustration: "'Mr. Tredgold!'
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