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‘Oh! I hope that Alexander ‘as not hurt poor Polly, of whom I am very fond,’ she has said.

‘The affair did not come to blows,’ has said Mr ‘Enderson. ‘You may trust that bird to take care of himself, my dear. When I came upon the scene the cat was crouching in a corner, with his fur bristling and his back up, while Polly, standing before ‘im, was telling ‘im not to move or he would shoot. Nor did he move, till I ‘ad seized the parrot and replaced him in the cage, when he shot upstairs like a streak of lightning. By sheer force of character that excellent bird ‘ad won the bloodless victory. I drink to ‘im!’

You can conceive my emotion as I listen to this tale. I am like the poet’s mice and men whose best-kid schemes have gone away. I am baffled. I am discouraged. I do not know what I shall do. I must find another plan, but I do not know what.

How shall I remove the cat? Shall I kill ‘im? No, for I might be suspect.

Shall I ‘ire someone to steal ‘im? No, for my accomplice might betray me.

Shall I myself steal ‘im? Ah! that is better. That is a very good plan.

Soon I have it perfected, this plan. Listen, monsieur; it is as follows. It is simple, but it is good. I will await my opportunity. I will remove the cat secretly from the ‘ouse. I will take him to an office of the District Messenger Boys. I will order a messenger to carry him at once to the Cats’ House, and to request M. le Directeur immediately to destroy him. It is a simple plan, but it is good.

I carry it through without a ‘itch. It is not so difficult to secure the cat. ‘E is asleep in the drawing-room. There is nobody at hand. I have in my bedroom a ‘at-box which I have brought from Paris. I have brought it with me to the drawing-room. I have placed in it the cat. I have escaped from the ‘ouse. The cat has uttered a cry, but none has ‘eard. I have reached the office of the District Messenger Boys. I have ‘anded over the cat in its box. The manager is courteous, sympathetic. A messenger has started in a cab for the Cats’ House. I have breathed a sigh of relief. I am saved.

That is what I say to myself as I return. My troubles are over, and once more I can be gay, debonair, vivacious with Miss Marion, for no longer will there be present the cat Alexander to ‘arass me.

When I have returned there is commotion in the ‘ouse. I pass on the stairs domestics calling ‘Puss, puss!’ The butler is chirruping loudly and poking beneath the furniture with a umbrella. All is confusion and agitation.

In the drawing-room is Miss Marion. She is distressed.

‘Nowhere,’ she has said, ‘can there be found the cat Alexander of whom I am so fond. Nowhere in the ‘ouse is he, Where can he be? He is lost.’

I am gentle, sympathetic. I endeavour to console her. I ‘int to her that am I not sufficient substitute for a beastly cat? She is, however, inconsolable. I must be patient. I must wait my time.

Captain Bassett is announced. He is informed of what has ‘appened. He is distressed. He has the air as if he, too, would endeavour to be gentle, sympathetic. But I am Johnny-on-the-spot. I stay till he ‘as gone.

Next day again it is ‘Puss, puss!’ Again the butler has explored under the furniture with the umbrella. Again Miss Marion is distressed. Again ‘ave I endeavoured to console.

This time I think I am not so unsuccessful. I am, you understand, young, ‘andsome, sympathetic. In another two ticks I am about to seize ‘er ‘and and declare my passion.

But, before I can do so, Captain Bassett is announced.