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Buchan, John, 1875-1940

"The Thirty-Nine Steps"


When I entered that quiet thoroughfare it seemed deserted. Sir
Walter's house was in the narrow part, and outside it three or four
motor-cars were drawn up. I slackened speed some yards off and
walked briskly up to the door. If the butler refused me admission,
or if he even delayed to open the door, I was done.
He didn't delay. I had scarcely rung before the door opened.
'I must see Sir Walter,' I panted. 'My business is desperately
important.'
That butler was a great man. Without moving a muscle he held
the door open, and then shut it behind me. 'Sir Walter is engaged,
Sir, and I have orders to admit no one. Perhaps you will wait.'
The house was of the old-fashioned kind, with a wide hall and
rooms on both sides of it. At the far end was an alcove with a
telephone and a couple of chairs, and there the butler offered me a seat.
'See here,' I whispered. 'There's trouble about and I'm in it. But
Sir Walter knows, and I'm working for him. If anyone comes and
asks if I am here, tell him a lie.'
He nodded, and presently there was a noise of voices in the
street, and a furious ringing at the bell. I never admired a man
more than that butler. He opened the door, and with a face like a
graven image waited to be questioned. Then he gave them it. He
told them whose house it was, and what his orders were, and
simply froze them off the doorstep.


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