The sound of someone murmuring his name brought his wandering thoughts back to the workaday world. He looked about him with interest, which deepened as he saw that he had apparently got the roof to himself.
“Ferris!”
The butler was a man who never permitted himself to be surprised, but he was conscious now of something not unlike that emotion. Disembodied voices which whispered his name were new in his experience. It could hardly be one of the two birds in the sleeping-porch that was speaking, for they were behind concrete walls and a solid door, and would have had to raise their voices far louder to make themselves heard.
“Ferris!”
Possibly an angel, thought the butler: and was turning his mind to other things when he perceived that in the wall by which he stood there was a small window high up in the concrete. So it was one of the birds, after all. Scarcely had he made the discovery of the window when the voice spoke again, and so distinctly this time that he was able to recognise it as that of his employer, Mrs. Sigsbee H. Waddington.
“Ferris!”
“Madam?” said Ferris.
“It is I, Ferris—Mrs. Waddington.”
“Very good, madam.”
“What did you say? Come closer. I can’t hear you.”
The butler, though not a man who did this sort of thing as a general rule, indulgently stretched a point and stood on tiptoe. He advanced his mouth towards the hole in the wall and repeated his remark.
“I said ‘Very good, madam,’ ” explained this modern Pyramus.
“Oh? Well, be quick, Ferris.”
“Quick, madam?”
“Be quick and let us out.”
“You wish me to release you, madam?”
“Yes.”
“H’m!”
“What did you say?”
The butler, who had found the strain of standing on tiptoe a little hard on his fallen arches, reared himself up once more.
“I said ‘H’m!’ madam.”
“What did he say?” asked the voice of Lord Hunstanton.
“He said ‘H’m!’ ” replied the voice of Mrs. Waddington.
“Why?”
“How should I know? I believe the man has been drinking.”
“Let me talk to the fellow,” said Lord Hunstanton.
There was a pause. Then a male understudy took up Thisbe’s portion of the performance.
“Hi!”
“Sir?” said Ferris.
“You out there, what’s your name. …”
“My name is—and has always been—Ferris, sir.”
“Well, then, Ferris, listen to me and understand that I’m not the sort of man to stand any dashed nonsense or anything like that of any description whatsoever. Why, when this dear, good lady told you to let us out, did you reply ‘H’m!’? Answer me that—yes or no.”
The butler raised himself on tiptoe again.
“The ejaculation was intended to convey doubt, your lordship.”
“Doubt? What about?”
“As to whether I could see my way to letting you out, your lordship.”
“Don’t be a silly idiot. It’s not so dark as all that.”
“I was alluding to the difficulties confronting me as the result of the peculiar position in which I find myself situated, your lordship.”
“What did he say?” asked the voice of Mrs. Waddington.
“Something about his peculiar position.”
“Why is he in a peculiar position?”
“Ah! There you have me.”
“Let me talk to the man.”
There was a scuffling noise, followed by a heavy fall and a plaintive cry from a female in distress.
“I knew that chair would break if you stood on it,” said Lord Hunstanton. “I wish I could have had a small bet on that chair breaking if you stood on it.”
“Wheel the bed under the window,” replied the indomitable woman beside him. She had lost an inch of skin from her right ankle, but her hat was still in the ring.
A grating noise proclaimed the shifting of the bed. There was a creak of springs beneath a heavy weight. The window, in its capacity of loud speaker, announced Mrs. Waddington calling.
“Ferris!”
“Madam?”
“What do you mean? Why is your position peculiar?”
“Because I am a deputy, madam.”
“What does that matter?”
“I represent the Law, madam.”
“The what?” asked Lord Hunstanton.
“The Law,” said Mrs. Waddington. “He says he represents the Law.”
“Let me speak to the blighter!”
There was another interval, which the butler employed in massaging his aching insteps.
“Hi!”
“Your lordship?”
“What’s all this rot about your representing the Law?”
“I was placed in a position of trust by the officer who has recently left us. He instructed me to guard your lordship and Mrs. Waddington and to see that you did not effect your escape.”
“But, Ferris, try not to be more of an ass than you can help. Pull yourself together and use your intelligence. You surely don’t suppose that Mrs. Waddington and I have done anything wrong?”
“It is not my place to speculate on the point which you have raised, your lordship.”
“Listen, Ferris. Let’s get down to the stern, practical side of this business. If the old feudal spirit hadn’t died out completely, you’d do a little thing like letting us out of this place for the pure love of service, if you know what I mean. But, seeing that we live in a commercial age, what’s the figure?”
“Are you suggesting that I should accept a bribe, your lordship? Am I to understand that you propose that, in return for money, I should betray my trust?”
“Yes. How much?”
“How much has your lordship got?”
“What did he say?” asked Mrs. Waddington.
“He asked how much we’d got.”
“How much what?”
“Money.”
“He wishes to extort money from us?”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
“Let me speak to the man.”
Mrs. Waddington came to the window.
“Ferris.”
“Madam?”
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
“Yes, madam.”
“Your behaviour surprises and revolts me.”
“Very good, madam.”
“You cease from this moment to be in my employment.”
“Just as you desire, madam.”
Mrs. Waddington retired for a brief consultation with her companion.
“Ferris,” she said, returning to the window.
“Madam?”
“Here is all the money we have—two hundred and fifteen dollars.”
“It will be ample, madam.”
“Then kindly make haste and unlock this door.”
“Very good, madam.”
Mrs. Waddington waited, chafing. The moments passed.
“Madam.”
“Well, what is it now?”
“I regret to have to inform you, madam,” said Ferris respectfully, “that, when the policeman went away, he took the key with him.”
