in his hand at the moment of the catastrophe.
. . . He sat down on the pebbled path beside the basin, flung
himself upon his stomach and, leaning over the brink as far as he
dared, began to grope in the mud. After some minutes he recovered
his shoe, but by and by was forced to abandon the search for the key
as hopeless. He had no lantern. . . .

He cast an appealing glance up at the light in his bedroom window.
His gaze travelled down to the fanlight over the front door. And
with that the dreadful truth broke on him. Without the latchkey he
could not possibly re-enter the house.

He unlaced and drew on his sodden shoe, and sat for a while
considering. Should he wait here in this dreadful plight until his
hosts returned? Or might he not run down to the theatre (which lay
but two short streets away), explain the accident to a doorkeeper,
and get a message conveyed to Mr. Basket? Yes, this was clearly the
wiser course. The streets--thank Heaven!--were dark.

He crept to the front gate and peered forth. The roadway was
deserted. Taking his courage in both hands, he stepped out upon the
pavement and walked briskly downhill to the theatre. The distance
was a matter of five or six hundred yards only, and he met nobody.
Coming in sight of the brightly-lit portico, he made a dash for it
and up the steps, where he blundered full tilt into the arms of a
tall doorkeeper at the gallery entrance.

"Hallo!" exclaimed the man, falling back. "Get out of this!"

"One moment, my friend--"

"Damme!" The doorkeeper, blocking the entrance, surveyed him and
whistled. "Hi, Charley!" he called; "come and take a look at this!"

A scrag-necked youth thrust his face forward from the aperture of the
ticket-office.

"Well, I'm jiggered," was his comment. "Drunk, eh? Throw him out!"

"If you'll listen for a moment," pleaded the Major, with dignity, and
began to search in the pockets of his sodden breeches. "I wish a
message taken . . . but dear me, now I remember, I left my money
upstairs!"

"_On_ the gilded dressing-table beside the diamond tiyara," suggested
the doorkeeper. "Or maybe you cast it down, careless, on the moonlit
shore afore taking your dip!"

"My good man, I assure you that I am the victim of an accident.
It so happens that, by a singular chain of mischance, I have not at
this moment a penny about me. But if you will go to the reserved row
of the pit and fetch out my friend Mr. Basket--"

At this po