[Illustration: "HE DISAPPEARED TO THE WAIST IN A WAVE OF EAGER GREY PERSIAN FUR."]
Suddenly Robert sniffed, in the silence of the dark kitchen where the only candle was burning all on one side, because of the draught.
And as he spoke a lantern flashed its light through the window of the kitchen, a face peered in, and a voice said:--
"What's all this row about? You let me in."
Robert tip-toed to the window and spoke through the pane that was a little cracked.
"What do you mean?" he said. "There's no row. You listen; everything's as quiet as quiet."
The strange sweet scent grew stronger, and the Phoenix put out its beak.
"They're _musk_ rats," said the Phoenix. "I suppose some cats eat them--but never Persian ones. What a mistake for a well-informed carpet to make! Oh, what a night we're having!"
"Do go away," said Robert, nervously, to the policeman. "We're just going to bed--that's our bedroom candle--there isn't any row. Everything's as quiet as a mouse."
A wild chorus of mews drowned his words, and with the mews were mingled the shrieks of the musk rats. What had happened? Had the cats tasted them before deciding that they disliked the flavour?
"I'm a-comin' in," said the policeman. "You've got a cat shut up there."
"A cat!" said Cyril. "Oh, my only aunt! _A_ cat!"
"Come in, then," said Robert. "It's your own look-out. I advise you not. Wait a shake, and I'll undo the side door."
He undid the side door, and the policeman, very cautiously, came in.
And there, in the kitchen, by the light of one candle, with the mewing and the screaming going on like a dozen steam sirens, twenty waiting motor-cars, and half a hundred squeaking pumps, four agitated voices shouted to the policeman four mixed or wholly different explanations of the very mixed events of the evening.
Did you ever try to explain the simplest thing to a policeman?
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"There is a blacksmith's shop at Llancayo, near Usk, Mon., that possesses an extraordinary window. The framework of the window consists of a cart-wheel let into the wall, with panes of glass between the spokes."--Mr. W. Marsh, 1, Church Street, Monmouth.
"I send you a post-card which I received in the ordinary way by post from my brother, who lives at Sutton Scarsdale, a scattered village near Chesterfield. You will notice that the card was posted at 7.15 p.m. on the 5th October, and it was delivered during the evening of the following day. The address looks a mixture of Greek and German, but on inspection it will be found that each letter is spelled out in full. The pencilled words were inserted by the Post Office officials. The Post Office is often the object of complaints for tardiness in delivery, but I think great credit is due to it for its cleverness and promptness in this case."--Mr. John Alderson, 12, Albert Road, Stroud Green, N.