reefer coat which Gustus wore, ready for his journey. It was the greatest treasure that Edward had, but it was also the greatest responsibility, so that while he felt the joy of self-sacrifice he also felt the rapture of relief. Life is full of such mixed moments. And the holidays ended and Edward went back to his villa. Be sure he had given Gustus his home address, and begged him to write, but Gustus never did. Presently Edward’s father came home from India, and they left his aunt to her villa and went to live at a jolly little house on a sloping hill at Chiselhurst, which was Edward’s father’s [p48very own. They were not rich, and Edward could not go to a very good school, and though there was enough to eat and wear, what there was was very plain. And Edward’s father had been wounded, and somehow had not got a pension. [p 48 Now one night in the next summer Edward woke up in his bed with the feeling that there was some one in the room. And there was. A dark figure was squeezing itself through the window. Edward was far too frightened to scream. He simply lay and listened to his heart. It was like listening to a cheap American clock. The next moment a lantern flashed in his eyes and a masked face bent over him. ‘Where does your father keep his money?’ said a muffled voice. ‘In the b-b-b-b-bank,’ replied the wretched Edward, truthfully. ‘I mean what he’s got in the house.’ ‘In his trousers pocket,’ said Edward, ‘only he puts it in the dressing-table drawer at night.’ ‘You must go and get it,’ said the burglar, for such he plainly was. ‘Must I?’ said Edward, wondering how he could get out of betraying his father’s confidence and being branded as a criminal. ‘Yes,’ said the burglar in an awful voice, ‘get up and go.’ [p49]‘No,’ said Edward, and he was as much surprised at his courage as you are. [p