For my own part I was altogether
too dazed to conjecture what had happened. But that Gatton had saved
me from some deadly peril I was well convinced. Stirrings and the
noise of footsteps came from an adjoining room, and presently in his
night attire Martin appeared, very bemused.
"Mr. Addison," he began, and stared from me to my companion.
"Let no one leave their rooms," said Gatton decisively, "until I give
them permission."
"Eh," began Martin heavily.
"I am a police officer," added Gatton; "and you will all do as I
direct. Does any one sleep on the same floor as Mr. Addison?"
"No, sir," replied Martin, who was not yet more than half awake, but
who nevertheless had been impressed by the Inspector's authoritative
manner.
Sounds of footsteps from the floor above now became audible,
whereupon:
"Order every one to remain in their rooms!" repeated Gatton.
Martin, raising his voice, obeyed him.
"What are your arrangements in the case of fire?" continued the
Inspector.
Several betousled heads were peeping down from the landing above but
no one spoke until Martin collected his ideas sufficiently to reply:
"There's buckets in the stables--and there's the well. Wilkins sleeps
over the stables--"
"Can you make him hear without going downstairs?"
"I can try," was the answer.
Martin walked to a window which lighted the landing, and threw it
widely open. Leaning out:
"Wilkins!" he roared--"Wilkins!"
"Aye, aye, boss!" came faintly from somewhere below.
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