“Hallo!” he said thickly. “What’s the matter?”

He looked round him vacantly for a minute or two and then intelligence returned to his eye.

“Have you got him?” he demanded eagerly.

“Got who?”

“The man. Climbed down the ivy. I was by the window there. Grabbed him and we had no end of a set-to⁠—”

“One of those nasty, murderous cat burglars,” said Lady Coote. “Poor boy.”

Jimmy was looking round him.

“I say⁠—I’m afraid we⁠—er⁠—have made rather a mess of things. Fellow was as strong as an ox and we went fairly waltzing around.”

The condition of the room was clear proof of this statement. Everything light and breakable within a range of twelve feet that could be broken had been broken.