“‘I didn’t,’ I said.  ‘I came by train.’

“Noticing that he seemed piqued by my reply, I made haste to suggest that we should repair to a neighbouring dairy and consume two small glasses of butter milk and a sponge cake at my expense.  Not to be outdone in hospitality, he made a counter-proposal, which, after some hesitation, I thought it discreet to accept.  Our progress through the streets afforded the acme of gratification to the populace, most of whom accompanied us with every circumstance of enthusiasm and delight.  Altogether it was most exhilarating.

“My reception at the police-station was cordial in the extreme.  They told me their theory, and I gave them my explanation.  The fact that the beastly case was still locked was naturally in my favour.  In fact, everything in the garden was lovely, and I was on the point of pushing off to catch my train, when that fool of an inspector asked if I’d leave my card, as a matter of form.

“‘I’m afraid I haven’t one on me,’ I said, ’but I daresay I’ve got an envelope,’ and I started to feel in my pockets.  There was only one paper there, and that wasn’t an envelope. It was Mr. Boleton’s letter.

“The moment I saw what it was, I knew I was done.  I couldn’t put it away, or they’d get suspicious.  If I showed it them, they’d regard me as a first-class crook, and very big game.  I suppose I hesitated, for the Inspector leaned forward and took it out of my hand.

“The rest was easy.  I was reviled, searched, cautioned, examined, measured, described and finally told that I should be detained pending inquiries.  I was then immured in a poisonous-looking dungeon, which, to judge from its atmosphere, had been recently occupied by an anti-prohibitionist, and, from its condition, not yet reached by the chambermaid.

“Yes,” he concluded, “you have before you the complete gaol-bird.”

“How did you spend your time?” said Jonah.

“B-b-beating my wings against the crool b-b-bars,” said Berry.  “My flutterings were most painful.  Several turnkeys broke down.  The rat which was attached to me for pay and rations gambolled to assuage my grief.  Greatly affected by the little animal’s antics, I mounted the plank bed and rang the b-b-bell for the b-b-boots.  In due course they appeared full of the feet of a gigantic warder.  I told him that I had not ordered vermin and should prefer a fire, and asked if they’d mind if I didn’t dress for dinner.  I added that I thought flowers always improved a cell, and would he buy me some white carnations and a b-b-begonia.  His reply was evasive and so coarse that I told the rat not to listen, and recited what I could remember of ‘The Lost Chord.’” He turned to me.  “The remainder of my time I occupied in making plans for the disposal of your corpse.”

“You’ve only yourself to thank,” said I.  “You shouldn’t have borrowed the goods.  I acted in good faith.”

“I wonder,” said Berry, “where one gets quicklime.”