. He made no violent movement, but his whole body was tensely strung
to resist.

Crowther's hands tightened upon him. "Not to-night!" he said.

"Yes, now!" Something of electricity ran through Piers; there came as it
were the ripple of muscles contracting for a spring. Yet still he stood
motionless, menacing but inactive.

"I will not!" Sudden and hard Crowther's answer came; his hold became a
grip. By sheer unexpectedness of action, he forced Piers back against the
door behind him.

It gave inwards, and they stumbled into the darkness of the bedroom.

"You fool!" said Piers. "You fool!"

Yet he gave ground, scarcely resisting, and coming up against the bed sat
down upon it suddenly as if spent.

There fell a brief silence, a tense, hard-breathing pause. Then Piers
reached up and freed himself.

"Oh, go away, Crowther!" he said. "You're a kind old ass, but I don't
want you. And you needn't spend the night in the corridor either. See?
Just go to bed like a Christian and let me do the same!"

The struggle was over; so suddenly, so amazingly, that Crowther stood
dumbfounded. He had girded himself to wrestle with a giant, but there was
nothing formidable about the boy who sat on the edge of his bed and
laughed at him with easy ridicule.

"Why don't you switch on the light," he jeered, "and have a good look
round for the devil? He was here a minute ago. What? Don't you believe in
devils? That's heresy. All good parsons--" He got up suddenly and went to
the switch. In a second the room was flooded with light. He returned to
Crowther with the full flare on his face, and the only expression it wore
was one of careless friendliness. He held out his hand. "Good-night,
dear old fellow! Say your prayers and go to bed! And you needn't have any
more nightmares on my account. I'm going to turn in myself directly."

There was no mistaking his sincerity, or the completeness of his
surrender. Crowther could but take the extended hand, and, in silent
astonishment, treat the incident as closed.

He even wondered as he went away if he had not possibly exaggerated the
whole matter, though at the heart of him he knew that this was only what
Piers himself desired him to believe. He could not but feel convinced,
however, that the danger was past for the time at least. In his own
inimitable fashion Piers had succeeded in reassuring him. He was fully
satisfied that the boy would keep his word, for his faith in him was
absolute. But