course, I knew there was no reason why Whittington should be in that room rather
than in any other–less reason, in fact, for the betting would be on his being
in one of the reception-rooms downstairs. But I guess I’d got the hump from
standing so long in the rain, and anything seemed better than going on doing
nothing. So I started up.
“It wasn’t so easy, by a long chalk! The rain had made the boughs mighty
slippery, and it was all I could do to keep a foothold, but bit by bit I managed
it, until at last there I was level with the window.
“But then I was disappointed. I was too far to the left. I could only see
sideways into the room. A bit of curtain, and a yard of wallpaper was all I
could command. Well, that wasn’t any manner of good to me, but just as I was
going to give it up, and climb down ignominiously, some one inside moved and
threw his shadow on my little bit of wall–and, by gum, it was Whittington!
“After that, my blood was up. I’d just got to get a look into that room.
It was up to me to figure out how. I noticed that there was a long branch
running out from the tree in the right direction. If I could only swarm about
half-way along it, the proposition would be solved. But it was mighty uncertain
whether it would bear my weight. I decided I’d just got to risk that, and I
started. Very cautiously, inch by inch, I crawled along. The bough creaked and
swayed in a nasty fashion, and it didn’t do to think of the drop below, but at
last I got safely to where I wanted to be.
“The room was medium-sized, furnished in a kind of bare hygienic way. There
was a table with a lamp on it in the middle of the room, and sitting at that
table, facing towards me, was Whittington right enough. He was talking to a
woman dressed as a hospital nurse. She was sitting with her back to me, so I
couldn’t see her face. Although the blinds were up, the window itself was shut,
so I couldn’t catch a word of what they said. Whittington seemed to be doing
all the talking, and the nurse just listened. Now and then she nodded, and
sometimes she’d shake her head, as though she were answering questions. He
seemed very emphatic–once or twice he beat with his fist on the table. The rain
had stopped now, and the sky was clearing in that sudden way it does.
“Presently, he seemed to get to the end of what he was saying. He got up,
and so did she. He looked towards the window and asked something–I guess it
was whether it was raining. Anyway, she came right across and looked out. Just
then the moon came out from behind the clouds. I was scared the woman would
catch sight of me, for I was full in the moonlight. I tried to move back a bit.
The jerk I gave was too much for that rotten old branch. With an almighty
crash, down it came, and Julius P. Hersheimmer with it!”
“Oh, Julius,” breathed Tuppence, “how exciting! Go on.”
“Well, luckily for me, I pitched down into a good soft bed of earth–but it
put me out of action for the time, sure enough. The next thing I knew, I was
lying in bed with a hospital nurse (not Whittington’s one) on one side of me,
and a little black-bearded man with gold glasses, and medical man written all
over him, on the other. He rubbed his hands together, and raised his eyebrows
as I stared at him. ‘Ah!’ he said. ‘So our young friend is coming round again.
Capital. Capital.’
“I did the usual stunt. Said: ‘What’s happened?’ And ‘Where am I?’ But I
knew the answer to the last well enough. There’s no moss growing on my brain.
‘I think that’ll do for the present, sister,’ said the little man, and the nurse
left the room in a sort of brisk well-trained way. But I caught her handing me