The room was at an angle of the house.  Three windows looked out on to the lawn in front; that at the side into a large shrubbery, where the bushes grew up close to it; and Charlie decided that here, if anywhere, the man would take up his post.  As soon, then, as he knew that the servants were clearing away the supper, he took a heavy cudgel and went out.  He walked straight away from the house, and then, when he knew that his figure could no longer be seen in the twilight, he made a circuit, and, entering the shrubbery, crept along close to the wall of the Muse, until within two or three yards of the window.  Having made sure that at present, at any rate, no one was near, he moved out a step or two to look at the window.

His suspicions were at once confirmed.  The inside curtains were drawn, but the casement was open two or three inches.  Charlie again took up his post, behind a bush, and waited.

In five minutes he heard a twig snap, and then a figure came along, noiselessly, and placed itself at the window.  Charlie gave him but a moment to listen, then he sprang forward, and, with his whole strength, brought his cudgel down upon the man’s head.  He fell like a stone.  Charlie threw open the window, and, as he did so, the curtain was torn back by his father, the sound of the blow and the fall having reached the ears of those within.

Sir Marmaduke had drawn his sword, and was about to leap through the window, when Charlie exclaimed: 

“It is I, father.  I have caught a fellow listening at the window, and have just knocked him down.”

“Well done, my boy!

“Bring lights, please, gentlemen.  Let us see what villain we have got here.”

But, as he spoke, Charlie’s head suddenly disappeared, and a sharp exclamation broke from him, as he felt his ankles grasped and his feet pulled from under him.  He came down with such a crash that, for a moment, he was unable to rise.  He heard a rustling in the bushes, and then his father leapt down beside him.

“Where are you, my boy?  Has the scoundrel hurt you?”

“He has given me a shake,” Charlie said as he sat up; “and, what is worse, I am afraid he has got away.”

“Follow me, gentlemen, and scatter through the gardens,” Sir Marmaduke roared.  “The villain has escaped!”

For a few minutes, there was a hot pursuit through the shrubbery and gardens, but nothing was discovered.  Charlie had been so shaken that he was unable to join the pursuit, but, having got on to his feet, remained leaning against the wall until his father came back.

“He has got away, Charlie.  Have you any idea who he was?”

“It was Nicholson, father.  At least, I am almost certain that it was him.  It was too dark to see his face.  I could see the outline of his head against the window, and he had on a cap with a cock’s feather which I had noticed the man wore.”

“But how came you here, Charlie?”