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 edge of the doorway and H. O's boot; it was bruised black and blue, and another part bled, but she did not notice it till long after.

We looked at each other, and Oswald said in a firm voice (at least, I hope it was):

"What was that?"

"He has waked up," Alice said. "Oh, I know he has. Of course there is a door for him to get out by when he wakes. He'll come up here. I know he will."

Dicky said, and his voice was not at all firm (I noticed that at the time), "It doesn't matter, if he's alive."

"Unless he's come to life a raving lunatic," Noël said, and we all stood with our eyes on the doorway of the turret—and held our breath to hear.

But there was no more noise.

Then Oswald said—and nobody ever put it in the Golden Deed book, though they own that it was brave and noble of him—he said:

"Perhaps it was only the wind blowing one of the doors to. I'll go down and see, if you will, Dick."

Dicky only said:

"The wind doesn't shoot bolts."

"A bolt from the blue," said Denny to himself, looking up at the sky. His father is a sub-editor. He had gone very red, and he was holding on to Alice's hand. Suddenly he stood up quite straight and said:

"I'm not afraid. I'll go and see."