s,
under the gibbous moon, assuredly they would sleep. The mattresses were
hauled up, sheets and blankets were spread, and an hour later the two
insomniasts, each on his separate tower, were crying their good-nights
across the dividing gulf.

On Mary the sleep-compelling charm of the open air did not work with its
expected magic. Even through the mattress one could not fail to be aware
that the leads were extremely hard. Then there were noises: the owls
screeched tirelessly, and once, roused by some unknown terror, all the
geese of the farmyard burst into a sudden frenzy of cackling. The stars
and the gibbous moon demanded to be looked at, and when one meteorite
had streaked across the sky, you could not help waiting, open-eyed and
alert, for the next. Time passed; the moon climbed higher and higher in
the sky. Mary felt less sleepy than she had when she first came out.
She sat up and looked over the parapet. Had Ivor been able to sleep? she
wondered. And as though in answer to her mental question, from
behind the chimney-stack at the farther end of the roof a white form
noiselessly emerged--a form that, in the moonlight, was recognisably
Ivor's. Spreading his arms to right and left, like a tight-rope dancer,
he began to walk forward along the roof-tree of the house. He swayed
terrifyingly as he advanced. Mary looked on speechlessly; perhaps he was
walking in his sleep! Suppose he were to wake up suddenly, now! If she
spoke or moved it might mean his death. She dared look no more, but sank
back on her pillows. She listened intently. For what seemed an immensely
long time there was no sound. Then there was a patter of feet on the
tiles, followed by a scrabbling noise and a whispered "Damn!" And
suddenly Ivor's head and shoulders appeared above the parapet. One leg
followed, then the other. He was on the leads. Mary pretended to wake up
with a start.

"Oh!" she said. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep," he explained, "so I came along to see if you
couldn't. One gets bored by oneself on a tower. Don't you find it so?"

It was light before five. Long, narrow clouds barred the east, their
edges bright with orange fire. The sky was pale and watery. With the
mournful scream of a soul in pain, a monstrous peacock, flying heavily
up from below, alighted on the parapet of the tower. Ivor and Mary
started broad awake.

"Catch him!" cried Ivor, jumping up. "We'll have a feather." The
frightened peacock ran up and d