"they're topping!"

"how did you think of them?"

"i like king alfred's legs!"

"ingred, you look about a hundred!"

"fil could scold!"

"verity, what was a courtier doing rambling about a forest in a blue dressing-gown? it would get torn on the bushes!"

"i know. we told her so, but she would wear it!" declared ingred. "she was just pig-headed over that dressing-gown!"

"well, go and look at the saxon pictures for yourself, in the history book!" retorted verity, sticking to her point. "you'll see the courtiers in long flowing garments very like dressing-gowns. i think it was a capital idea, and the best i could do. there wasn't another rug for the kilt anyhow, and when other people have taken the best parts and the nicest costumes, you've just got to put up with anything you can find that's left."

"you did it so well," ingred assured her hastily, for verity had gone very pink, and her voice sounded distinctly offended. "i thought the way you dropped on one knee and cried: 'my liege lord! i am your humble socman!' was most impressive. what made you think of 'socman'?"

"got it out of the history book," said verity, slightly mollified. "it means a man who owned land, but wasn't quite as high up as a thane. i meant to bring in some more saxon words, but i hadn't time."

"you must win the dormitory score again, and give us another performance," urged mrs. best. "i'm afraid it's too late for any more to-night, though we're all sorry to stop. those juniors ought to be in bed. janie and doreen, if you'd like a quiet half-hour to finish your prep. you may go into my room. somebody put the tables back, please, and be sure the trestles are in their right places this time, we don't want another collapse! phyllis, your cough's worse. nurse shall rub your chest with camphorated oil, and you mustn't kiss anybody. betty too? i'll give you a lozenge, but don't suck it lying down in bed, in case you choke."

so saying, mrs. best, who generally mothered the hostel, dismissed her large family and bustled away with nurse to superintend the putting to bed of the juniors and the due care of those who might be regarded as even ever so slightly on the sick list. it was perhaps owing to the excitement of their spirited performance that the members of no. 2 dormitory could not get to sleep that night. they all lay wide awake in bed, and told each other tales about burglars, in whispers. verity's stories were blood-curdling in the extreme; she was a great reader, and had got them from magazines. her three room-mates listened with cold shivers running down their spines. according to verity's accounts it was a common and every day occurrence for a house-breaker to force an entrance, murder the occupants, and depart, leaving a case to baffle the police until some amateur detective turned up and solved the mystery.

"has it ever struck you that the hostel would be a very easy place to burgle?" asked fil. "those french windows have no shutters, and the glass could be cut with a diamond."

"or the doors could be opened with a skeleton key!" quavered nora.

"i suppose they generally wear goloshes, so as to tread softly," ventured ingred.

"wouldn't it be dreadful," continued verity, whose mind still ran on magazine stories, "to marry a fascinating man whom you'd met by chance, and then find out that he was a gentleman-burglar? what would you do?"

"it often happens on the cinema," said nora. "the girl wavers about in an agony whether to tell or not, and wrings her hands and rolls her eyes, like they always do roll them on the films, and then, just when things are at the very last gasp, the husband tumbles over a precipice, or is wrecked at sea, or smashed in a railway accident, and she marries the other, who's as good as gold, and loved her first."

"is the man who loves you first always as good as gold?" asked fil.

"well, generally on the pictures. he's loved you as a child, you see. you come on the film hand in hand, in socks, and he gives you his apple."

"but suppose they don't love you from a child?" said fil plaintively. "i've only known a lot of horrid little boys whom i didn't care for in the least. none of them ever gave me his apple, though i remember one taking mine. is the first fascinating man i meet the true lover or the burglar? how am i to know which is which?"

"you'd better let me be there to decide for you, child, or you'll be snapped up by the first adventurer that comes along," declared nora. "don't trust him if he has a mustache. 'daring dick of the black gang' had a little twisted mustache like mephistopheles in 'faust'."

"oh dear! and the last piece i saw on the pictures, the villain was clean shaven! that's no guide at all!"

"girls, you're breaking the silence rule!" said mrs. best, opening the door of dormitory 2, where the conversation, which had begun in whispers, had risen to a pitch audible on the landing outside. "this doesn't look like scoring again next week, and giving another performance. why, nora, the rain's driving through that open window straight on to your bed! you'll be getting rheumatism! i shall shut it, and leave the door wide open for air instead. now be good girls and go to sleep at once. don't let me hear any more talking."

the foursomes, in common with most of the hostel, were fond of mrs. best, so they turned over obediently, and composed themselves to slumber. they were really tired by this time, and dropped off into the land of nod before the clock on the stairs had chimed another quarter. how long she slept, ingred did not know. she dreamt quite a long and circumstantial dream of wandering on the cliffs near the sea with a gentleman-burglar, who was telling her his intention of raiding buckingham palace and taking away the crown jewels, and she heard his daring designs (as we always do in dreams) without the slightest surprise or any suggestion that the crown jewels are kept at the tower instead of at buckingham palace. she woke suddenly, and laughed at the absurdity of the idea. she felt hot, and threw back her eiderdown. the other girls were sleeping quietly, and the rain was still beating against the window in heavy showers, for it was a stormy night. the door of the bedroom stood wide open. what was that sound coming up the stairs from the hall below? it was certainly not the ticking of the clock. it seemed more like muffled and stealthy footsteps. in an instant ingred was very wide awake indeed, and listening intently. there it came again! she could not lie still and ignore it. she got out of bed, and with rather shaking knees walked on to the landing and peeped over the banisters. there was a tiny oil-lamp hanging on the wall; it faintly illuminated the stairs. was that somebody moving about in the darkness of the hall? if it was a burglar, he certainly must not come upstairs, or she would die of fright. an idea occurred to her, and acting on a sudden impulse she dashed into dormitory 2, roused the others, and told them to snatch what missiles they could, and hurry to her aid.

"we'll fling things at him if he tries to come up!" she gasped, groping for her boots.

it was a horrible experience: four nervous, quaking girls stood in the dim light on the landing gazing down into the haunted blackness of the shadowy hall. the sounds had ceased temporarily, but now they began again—a distinct shuffling as of footsteps, and even a subdued sniff, then the outline of a dark figure made its appearance, bearing straight for the stairs.

with quite commendable bravery ingred flung her boots at it, which missiles were instantly followed by nora's hairbrush, fil's dispatch case, and verity's pillow. it screamed in a most unburglar-like voice, and apparently with genuine fright.

"if you t-t-t-try to c-c-come nearer, i'll sh-sh-shoot you dead!" quavered ingred, wishing she had at least some semblance of a pistol to bluff with.

"what are you doing, girls?" replied the dark shadow, persisting in its movement towards the staircase, and, as it came into the faint circle of radiance spread by the lamp, resolving itself into the familiar form of nurse warner. "have you suddenly gone mad?"

here was a situation! the four girls flew back to their dormitory in great haste, especially as mrs. best, disturbed by the noise, had opened her door and come on to the scene in a pink-and-gray dressing-gown. they were followed, however, by both matron and nurse, and forced to give an explanation of their extraordinary conduct.

"i couldn't sleep for the wind, so i put on my felt slippers and my cloak, and went downstairs for a biscuit," declared nurse warner, whose voice sounded rather aggrieved. "i didn't think i should disturb anybody."

"you girls are the limit with your silly notions!" said mrs. best, really angry for once. "if you fill your heads with absurd ideas about burglars before you go to sleep, of course you can imagine anything. if i hear any more talking in no. 2 another night after the lights are out, i shall separate you, and send each of you to sleep in another dormitory. i'll not have the house upset like this! so you know what to expect. are you all in your beds? then not another word!"

"it's very uncomfy without my pillow!" whispered naughty verity, in distinct disobedience to this mandate, as the door of mrs. best's room closed. "dare i go and fetch it?"

"sh! sh! no!"

"i know what we'll give nursie for a christmas present," murmured fil softly. "a nice ornamental tin box of biscuits to keep in her bedroom. she shan't get hungry in the night again, poor dear!"

"sh! sh! will you go to sleep!" warned ingred emphatically.