t hand in case my chance came. I determined
not to undress, but to watch through the night. I had a bath, and
changed into light flannels and slippers. Then I took up my position
in a corner of the library close to the window, so that I could not
fail to hear Lawson's footsteps if he passed.

Fortunately I left the lights unlit, for as I waited I grew drowsy, and
fell asleep. When I woke the moon had risen, and I knew from the feel
of the air that the hour was late. I sat very still, straining my
ears, and as I listened I caught the sound of steps. They were
crossing the hall stealthily, and nearing the library door. I huddled
into my corner as Lawson entered.

He wore the same towel dressing-gown, and he moved swiftly and silently
as if in a trance. I watched him take the alabaster moon from the
mantelpiece and drop it in his pocket. A glimpse of white skin showed
that the gown was his only clothing. Then he moved past me to the
window, opened it and went out.

Without any conscious purpose I rose and followed, kicking off my
slippers that I might go quietly. He was running, running fast, across
the lawns in the direction of the Grove--an odd shapeless antic in the
moonlight. I stopped, for there was no cover, and I feared for his
reason if he saw me. When I looked again he had disappeared among the
trees.

I saw nothing for it but to crawl, so on my belly I wormed my way over
the dripping sward. There was a ridiculous suggestion of deer-stalking
about the game which tickled me and dispelled my uneasiness. Almost I
persuaded myself I was tracking an ordinary sleep-walker. The lawns
were broader than I imagined, and it seemed an age before I reached the
edge of the Grove. The world was so still that I appeared to be making
a most ghastly amount of noise. I remember that once I heard a
rustling in the air, and looked up to see the green doves circling
about the tree-tops.

There was no sign of Lawson. On the edge of the Grove I think that all
my assurance vanished. I could see between the trunks to the little
tower, but it was quiet as the grave, save for the wings above. Once
more there came over me the unbearable sense of anticipation I had felt
the night before. My nerves tingled with mingled expectation and
dread. I did not think that any harm would come to me, for the powers
of the air seemed not malignant. But I knew them for powers, and felt
awed and abased. I was in the presence of