"Tell that fool to stop," cried Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick. A special constable pushed his way through the crowd.

"What is all this about, please?" he demanded.

"There's a raid, sir," cried several voices.

"I give this woman in charge," cried Mr. MacFie, dramatically pointing at her who claimed to be his wife.

With alacrity the special pulled his note-book out of his pocket.

"The charge, sir?" he enquired.

"She says she's ma wife."

The special looked up from his note-book. "That is not an indictable offence, sir, I'm afraid."

"But she's na ma wife," protested Mr. MacFie.

Another rush of people seeking shelter swept the constable on one side, and when he once more strove to take up the thread, the woman had disappeared.

The results of John's vigour with the police-whistle were far-reaching. Omnibuses had drawn up to the kerb and had been promptly deserted by pa.s.sengers and crew. The trains on the District Railway were plunged in darkness and the authorities at Putney Bridge Station and East Putney telephoned through that there was a big air-raid.

Although nothing had been heard at head-quarters, it was deemed advisable to take precautions. Special constables, nurses and ambulances were called out, anti-aircraft stations warned, and tens of thousands of people sent scuttling home.

Bindle was one of the first to leave the School-room, and he made his way over to d.i.c.k Little's flat at Chelsea.

"Ah!" cried d.i.c.k Little as he opened the door, "Nancy's back. This way," he added, walking towards his bedroom.

In front of the dressing-table stood Private "Nancy" Dane, the far-famed Pierrette of the Pa.s.schendaele Pierrots. He was in the act of removing from his closely-cropped head a dark wig to which was attached a black toque with an oval of vivid-coloured embroidery.

"Well, that's that!" he remarked as he laid it on the table. "Hullo, Bindle!" he cried. "All Clear?"

"All Clear!" replied Bindle as he seated himself upon a chair and proceeded to light the big cigar that d.i.c.k Little handed him. d.i.c.k Little threw himself upon the bed.

"You done it fine," remarked Bindle approvingly, as he watched Dane slowly transform himself into a private of the line. "Pore ole Mac,"

he added, "'e got the wind up proper."

"Good show, what?" queried d.i.c.k Little as he lazily pulled at his pipe, tired after a long day's work in the hospital.

"Seemed a bit cruel to me," said Dane as he struggled out of a pair of hefty-looking corsets.

"Cruel!" cried Bindle indignantly, as he sat up straight in his chair.

"Cruel! with 'im a-tryin' to take the gal away from one of the boys wot's fightin' at the front. Cruel! It wouldn't be cruel, Mr. Nancy, if 'e was cut up an' salted an' given to the 'Uns as a meat ration;"

and with this ferocious p.r.o.nouncement Bindle sank back again in his chair and puffed away at his cigar.

"Sorry!" said Dane, laboriously pulling off a stocking.

"Right-o!" said Bindle cheerfully. Then after a pause he added, "I got to thank Ole 'Amlet for that little idea, and you, sir, for findin'

Mr. Nancy. Did it wonderful well, 'e did; still," remarked Bindle meditatively, "I wish they 'adn't blown that police-whistle. Them pore women an' kids was that scared, made me feel I didn't ought to 'ave done it; but then, 'ow was I to know that the Ole Bird was goin' to 'anky-panky like that with Calves. Took 'er name they did, that's somethink. Any'ow, ole Mac won't go 'angin' round Millikins again for many a long day. If 'e does I'll punch 'is bloomin' 'ead."

The next day Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick and John were summoned for causing to be blown to the public confusion a police-whistle, and although the summonses were dismissed the magistrate said some very caustic things about the insensate folly of excitable women. He furthermore made it clear that if anybody blew a police-whistle in the south-western district because somebody else's wife had come back unexpectedly, he would without hesitation pa.s.s a sentence that would discourage any repet.i.tion of so unscrupulous and unpardonable an act.Mr. MacFie cleared his character to some extent by a sermon on the following Sunday upon the ninth commandment, and by inserting an advertis.e.m.e.nt in the princ.i.p.al papers offering 20 to anyone who would give information as to the ident.i.ty of the woman who on the night of the 28th had created a disturbance in the Alton Road School Room.CHAPTER IX THE LETTING OF NUMBER SIX I "An' what am I to do if there's an air-raid?" demanded Mrs. Bindle.Bindle deliberately emptied his coffee-cup, replaced it in its saucer, sat back further in his chair as a sign of repletion, then turned to Mrs. Bindle, who had been watching him with angry eyes."Well, there's always Gawd an' Mr. Gupperduck, Mrs. B.," he remarked, with the air of a man suggesting an unfailing source of inspiration."You always was a scoffer, you with your black 'eart." Mrs. Bindle's ire was rising, and her diction in consequence losing something of its customary precision. "You know I ain't strong and--and 'ow them guns an' bombs frighten me." There was in Mrs. Bindle's voice a note of entreaty."A daughter o' the Lord didn't ought to be afraid of an 'Un; besides, you can go round an' 'old 'Earty's 'and. 'E's a rare ole 'ero when there's guns goin' off.""I knew I shouldn't get any sympathy from you," complained Mrs.Bindle, rising and proceeding to bang away the breakfast things. When Mrs. Bindle was suffering from any great stress of emotion, she expressed her feelings by the noise she made. Ironing gave her the greatest opportunities. She could bang the iron on the ironing-board, back again to the stand, and finally on to the stove."I got to earn a livin'," remarked Bindle philosophically as he proceeded to light his pipe. "It's war-time too, an' n.o.body can't afford to move, so pore ole Joe 'as to take any ole job 'e can get 'old of.""You lorst your last job a-purpose," snapped Mrs. Bindle.Bindle looked at her sharply. Sometimes Mrs. Bindle's accuracy in things where she could not possibly possess knowledge was startling.Bindle had temporarily relinquished his situation in the Removal Department of Harridge's Stores in order to become caretaker at Fulham Square Mansions whilst his intimate, Charlie Hart, had a fortnight's holiday.Mrs. Hart had been ill, and the doctor said that change of air and scene were essential to her recovery. She could not go alone, and if Mr. Hart went with her and a subst.i.tute were obtained, he would in all probability, as Charlie put it, "pinch my bloomin' job." Bindle he knew he could trust, and so it came about that for a fortnight Bindle was to "sleep out.""Well, you see," Bindle explained, "I couldn't disappoint ole Charlie----""And what about me?" demanded Mrs. Bindle, looking round from a fierce attack upon the kitchen stove with the poker."Well," said Bindle slowly, "you're a disappointed woman as it is, Mrs. B., so you ain't 'urt."Mrs. Bindle resumed her attack upon the fire with increased vigour."You always was a selfish beast, Bindle," she retorted. "You'll be sorry when I'm dead."Any reference by Mrs. Bindle to the remorse that he would suffer after her death, Bindle always regarded as a sort of "take cover" signal.Mrs. Bindle was hysterical, and Bindle liked to be well out of the way before the storm broke. He had heard, but had never had an opportunity of testing the statement, that without an audience dogs will not fight and women will never have hysterics.