So you and the lady was playing hide-and-seek?
Come, now, _what_ is your graft? Is _all_ the push here to-night?"
"That depends,"--cursing under my breath that I wore a gown which
hampered my movements. For, truth to tell, I was watching him as a cat
watches a mouse.
"Well, sir, we of the profession never interferes with gentlemanly
jobs, sir. All I want of you is to help me out of here."
"I am not a burglar."
"Oh, I understand, sir; I understand completely. A gentleman is always
a gentleman, sir. Now, you can return to that coal-bin. I was just
about to make for it when you lit that candle."
"Why not leave by the cellar-doors?"
"I have my reasons, sir; most satisfactory reasons, sir. _I_ prefer
the window. Get along!"--his tones suddenly hardening.
I got along.
"The lady may sit down, sir," he said courteously.
"Thank you, I will," replied the girl, plumping down on an empty
winecase. (She afterward confessed that if she had not sat down on the
box, she would have sat down on the cellar-floor, as a sort of
paralysis had seized her knees.)
I stepped into the coal-bin, and rested the candle on the little shelf
for that purpose. I was downright anxious to see the fellow safely
away.
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