I'll be off now. Good-night, Major. I hope you'll not be
disturbed. If there's any trouble fire a shot and I'll be here in two
shakes. I've got a pistol, and by Jingo I'll have it handy tonight. Keep
yours ready, too."
"I shall. Now a thousand thanks for your help, Barclay," said the soldier,
shaking his friend's hand.
Then he closed the door behind the police officer and by the light of a
match piled chairs against it. Then he lay down on the bed, put the pistol
under the edge of the mattress and ready to his hand, and fell asleep at
once.
Early in the morning he was aroused by a vigorous knocking and heard
Barclay's voice outside the door.
"Are you all right, Major?" it said.
"Yes, thanks. Good-morning," replied the soldier. "Come in. No, wait a
minute."
He jumped out of bed and removed the barricade. Barclay entered in his
pyjamas. Lowering his voice he said:
"Anything happen during the night?"
"I don't think so. I slept soundly and heard nothing. You're up early,"
replied the soldier, picking up the blankets and sheets from the floor and
spreading them carelessly on the bed to make it look as if he had used
them.
"Yes; those infernal birds make such a confounded row. It's like being in
an aviary," said Barclay.
Dermot threw open the wooden shutters. Outside the window was a small
balcony.
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