their way they were very tired. Presently the little boy got up, and went and stood by the window looking out, with his legs astraddle and his hands behind his back like a man. He wore a sailor-suit and had bare, sturdy knees. He was very small to try to be so manly.     

  

  

       “I'm not frightened, Mummy,” he said.     

       “If father were here, he wouldn't be frightened.”      

       She shifted her position so that she could glance proudly back at him.       “Father was never frightened.”      

       For the first time the little girl spoke. “If father were here, they wouldn't dare to come to London. I expect they knew...”      

       “Yes, Joan,” her mother interrupted quickly, “I expect they knew.”      

       “And when I'm a man they won't dare to come to London, either,” said Robbie. “How many of them did father...?”      

       But at that moment, before he could finish his question, his mother pressed her finger against his lips warningly. Above the roar of what was going on in the clouds, she had heard another and more alarming sound; the front-door closed quietly, a match struck and then the slow deliberate tread of someone groping up the stairs.     

  

  

       CHAPTER IV     

  

       HE tread reached the landing and proceeded to mount higher. Then it hesitated. Another match was struck and it commenced to descend. On arriving at the landing again, it halted uncertain. The handle of the door was tried. The door swung open and a man peered across the threshold. No one spoke. The little lady on the couch drew Joan closer to her side and held her breath, hoping that the man might not observe them and that, when he had gone, they might escape. But the man did not go, he stood there on the alert, listening and searching the darkness.     

       It was Robbie who spoke first. He 

 Prev. P 9/41 next