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!’ said a sharp voice from above.”]

Mr. Tredgold sprang to his feet, overturning the chair in his haste, and gazed aloft.

“Miss Drewitt!” he cried, in accents of intense surprise.

“I am coming down,” said the voice.

“Pray be careful,” said Mr. Tredgold, anxiously; “it is very dark.  Can I help you?”

“Yes—­you can go indoors,” said Miss Drewitt.

Her tone was so decided and so bitter that Mr. Tredgold, merely staying long enough to urge extreme carefulness in the descent, did as he was desired.  He went into the sitting-room and, standing uneasily by the fireplace, tried to think out his line of action.  He was still floundering when he heard swift footsteps coming up the garden, and Miss Drewitt, very upright and somewhat flushed of face, confronted him.

“I—­I called to see the captain,” he said, hastily, “and Joseph told me you were in the garden.  I couldn’t see you anywhere, so I took the liberty of sitting out there to wait for the captain’s return.”

Miss Drewitt listened impatiently.  “Did you know that I was up in the crow’s-nest?” she demanded.

“Joseph never said a word about it,” said Mr. Tredgold, with an air of great frankness.  “He merely said that you were in the garden, and, not being able to find you, I thought that he was mistaken.”

“Did you know that I was up in the crow’s-nest?” repeated Miss Drewitt, with ominous persistency.

“A—­a sort of idea that you might be there did occur to me after a time,” admitted the other.

“Did you know that I was there?”

Mr. Tredgold gazed at her in feeble indignation, but the uselessness of denial made truth easier.  “Yes,” he said, slowly.

“Thank you,” said the girl, scornfully.  “You thought that I shouldn’t like to be caught up there, and that it would be an amusing and gentlemanly thing to do to keep me a prisoner.  I quite understand.  My estimate of you has turned out to be correct.”

“It was quite an accident,” urged Mr. Tredgold, humbly.  “I’ve had a very worrying day seeing them off at Biddlecombe, and when I heard you up in the nest I succumbed to sudden temptation.  If I had stopped to think—­if I had had the faintest idea that you would catechise me in the way you have done—­I shouldn’t have dreamt of doing such a thing.”