en now he might be--no, he mustn't
think of that. If he thought of that, he would have to turn round.
He mustn't turn round. He was asleep; just peacefully asleep. But why
didn't the door shut? Where was Cayley now? Just behind him? And in his
hand no, he mustn't think of that. He was asleep. But why didn't the
door shut?

The door was shutting. There was a sigh from the sleeper in the bed,
a sigh of relief which escaped him involuntarily. But it had a very
natural sound a deep breath from a heavy sleeper. He added another one
to it to make it seem more natural. The door was shut.

Bill counted a hundred slowly and then got up. As quickly and as
noiselessly as possible he dressed himself in the dark. He put the dummy
figure in the bed, arranged the clothes so that just enough but not
too much of it was showing, and stood by the door looking at it. For a
casual glance the room was just about light enough. Then very quietly,
very slowly he opened the door. All was still. There was no light from
beneath the door of Cayley's room. Very quietly, very carefully he crept
along the passage to Antony's room. He opened the door and went in.

Antony was still in bed. Bill walked across to wake him up, and then
stopped rigid, and his heart thumped against his ribs. There was
somebody else in the room.

"All right, Bill," said a whispering voice, and Antony stepped out from
the curtains.

Bill gazed at him without saying anything.

"Rather good, isn't it?" said Antony, coming closer and pointing to the
bed. "Come on; the sooner we get out now, the better."

He led the way out of the window, the silent Bill following him. They
reached the ground safely and noiselessly, went quickly across the lawn
and so, over the fence, into the park. It was not until they were out of
sight of the house that Bill felt it safe to speak.

"I quite thought it was you in bed," he said.

"I hoped you would. I shall be rather disappointed now if Cayley doesn't
call again. It's a pity to waste it."

"He came all right just now?"

"Oh, rather. What about you?"

Bill explained his feelings picturesquely.

"There wouldn't have been much point in his killing you," said Antony
prosaically. "Besides being too risky."

"Oh!" said Bill. And then, "I had rather hoped that it was his love for
me which restrained him."

Antony laughed.

"I doubt it.... You didn't turn up your light when you dressed?"

"Good Lord, no. Did you want me to?"

Anto