an to trickle down his nose...

Then he heard in the next room some movement against a piece of
furniture and a voice muttering. That decided him: better to go and face
it than to wait there, so as though he were moving in his sleep, he got
out of bed, crossed the floor and entered the schoolroom.

The first sound that he heard was the ticking of the old nursery clock,
a strange familiar voice in this awful world, then suddenly, although
the room was in black darkness, he himself was staring into blazing
light.

He started back and uttered a little cry, but even as he did so that
well-remembered hand was upon his shoulder and the well-known voice in
his ear:

"Move an inch, utter a sound, and I blow yer brains out, yer--" the
voice, very low, faded into, the dark. He was staring into a lantern,
and above the lantern was the dark body of the Captain. Then as he
looked up he was indeed near his last moment, for had he not been a
brave boy, old for his years, and determined, he would have cried out
with a scream that would have raised the house.

The Captain had no face... The Captain had no face... Only out of a deep
darkness those little eyes glittered like candle-points. Jeremy uttered
no sound. Then catching the Captain's coat because he trembled so, he
said: "I'm coming at once--but don't wake Mary and Helen. They'd be
frightened. May I get a coat, because it raining?"

"Coming!" whispered the Captain, his voice coming from that space in the
air where were his eyes. "You move one inch from 'ere or utter one sound
and I do yer in, yer--I'm watchin' yer, mind!"

The lantern light suddenly vanished. The room was black. There was no
sound but the ticking of the clock, and now the rain, which had seemed
to stop during this terrible dialogue, beat with friendly comfort once
more upon the pane. Jeremy stood there, his body held together as though
in an iron case, scarcely breathing. There was no more sound at all.
Quite clearly now Mary's snores could be heard coming from her room.

Jeremy had only one thought--only one thought in all the world. The
Captain did not want him. The Captain had gone and not taken him with
him. He was safe; he was freed; the terror was over and he was at
liberty.

At last he moved back to his room. He got into bed again. He was
terribly cold, and little spasms of shivers seized him, but he did not
care. The Captain was gone, and he had not taken him with him...

V

He was no