The Sergeant was still keeping his vigil before the door. He had no doubt
that it was locked; did not Beaumaroy see Mrs. Wiles and himself out of
it every evening--the back door to the little house led only on to the
heath behind and gave no direct access to the road--and lock it after
them with a squeaking key? He would have warning enough if anyone turned
the key now. He was looking towards the road; a surprise was more
possible from that quarter; his back was towards the door and only a very
little way from it.
But when Beaumaroy had entered with Doctor Mary, he had not re-locked the
door; he opened it now very gently and cautiously, and saw the Sergeant's
back--there was no mistaking it. Without letting his surprise--for he had
confidently supposed the Sergeant to be in the Tower--interfere with the
instant action called for by the circumstances, he flung out his long
right arm, caught the Sergeant round the neck with a throttling grip, and
dragged him backwards into the house. The man was incapable of crying
out; no sound escaped from him which could reach the Tower.
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