it; he could not well do otherwise. "Still," he said, "it might rain;
one never knows."

He took hold of the register with the tongs and tried to shut it. It
was obstinate, and he pulled this way and that, working in his usual
laborious and conscientious way. At last it slipped and he managed to
get it jammed crossways. Thus he had to leave it, for Captain
Polkington, apparently cool enough now, wandered back into the
kitchen.

Mr. Gillat, of course, followed and arranged and rearranged pots on
the stove till the Captain said he had left his handkerchief
up-stairs. Stairs were trying to his heart, so Johnny had to go for
it. Up he went as fast as he could, and came down again almost faster,
for he tumbled on the second step and slipped the rest of the way with
considerable noise and bumping.

After that Captain Polkington gave up his efforts to get rid of his
guard and resigned himself to fate. At least, so thought Mr. Gillat,
who no amount of experience could instruct in the guilt of the human
race in general and the Polkingtons in particular. The first hour of
Julia's absence had passed when Johnny went into the back kitchen to
clean knives. He left the door between the rooms open, but from habit
more than from any thought of keeping an eye on his charge. They had
been talking in the ordinary way for some time now, the Captain
sitting so peacefully by the fire that Mr. Gillat had begun to forget
he was supposed to watch. And really it would seem he was justified,
for the Captain, of his own accord, left the easy-chair and followed
him into the back kitchen, standing watching the knife-cleaning. He
had been talking of old times, recalling far back incidents
regretfully; he continued to do so as he watched Johnny at work until
he was interrupted by a loud sizzling in the kitchen.

"Hullo!" he said, "there's a pot boiling over!" and he made as if he
would go to it but half stopped. "It is the big one," he said,
"perhaps you had better take it off; I'm not good at lifting weights
now-a-days."

"No, no!" Johnny said hastily; "don't you do it, you leave it to me,"
and he hurried into the kitchen to take from the fire a pot which, had
he only remembered it, had not been so near the blaze when he left it.

"It is too heavy for you," he went on as he lifted it; "I don't know
what is inside, only water, I think; it will be all right here by the
side."

A gust of wind swept round the kitchen, fluttering the herbs whic