I
told him what had happened, and begged him to give up the idea of the
burglary. But he'd been drinking heavily, and was in a nasty mood. First
he said I'd been playing him false and had warned Sir Horace, but when I
assured him that I hadn't he insisted on going to commit the burglary
just the same. With that he pulled out a revolver from his pocket, and
swore with an oath that he'd put a bullet through me when he came back if
I'd played him false and put Sir Horace on his guard, and that he'd put a
bullet in the old scoundrel--meaning Sir Horace--if he interrupted him
while he was robbing the house.
"He sat there, cursing and drinking, till he fell asleep with his head on
the table, snoring. I sat there not daring to breathe, hoping he'd sleep
till morning, but Miss Fanning woke him up about nine, and he staggered
to his feet to get out, with his revolver stuck in his coat pocket. He
was away over three hours and the girl and I sat there without saying a
word, just looking at each other and waiting for a clock on the
mantelpiece to chime the quarters. It was a cuckoo clock, and it had just
chimed twelve when we heard a quick step coming upstairs to the flat.
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