"It would be _much_ safer," the young man said impressively. He did not answer Joey's question about living in the tower; but proceeded to tell her story upon story of accidents happening on the Deeps to people who strayed there in the fog or the dark. Joey thought his stories were a little like the _Cautionary Tales_; from his account the sea-roke perpetually lay in wait, in company with horrid oozy spots where people disappeared with no trace left to tell how they had died. His stories were so interesting that Joey forgot her desire to explore, and sat by his side on a great block of fallen stone, listening with all her ears, and foreseeing a thrilling time in Blue Dorm this evening. She was so absorbed that she never noticed the lightening of the roke, until a long, narrow bar of sunshine fell through a chink in the shutters of the window, making the red glow of the lantern look pale and unnatural. Then she jumped up in a hurry, and held out her hand. The post went out at six on Sundays, and she still had four miles to walk before she could write that apology to Cousin Greta. She must go at once now it would be safe to cross the piece of marsh-land to the road. She held out her hand to the young man. "Good-bye," she said. "You've been a brick to me, and I've enjoyed your stories most awfully. I've had no end of a good time here, and it's jolly thrilling, when you haven't done it, to know you might have been drowned so easily, isn't it? It's been a topping afternoon. Thanks ever so." She shook hands with the young man, whose easily scared breath seemed to have departed again, for he gasped and said nothing. Joey turned her back upon the Round Tower and turned her face in the direction of the road, now plainly to be seen. It was not till she had reached it that it struck her that she had been rather stupid not to ask leave to come again, and bring her friends. But perhaps now the young man was used to her, he wouldn't mind if three or four of them turned up one afternoon, and asked for some more of his stories, and permission to explore? Joey settled in her own mind that she would share the privilege with Noreen and Gabrielle at least. But one couldn't go back to ask leave, with the thought of the six o'clock post and that letter of apology still to be written for it. Joey covered the ground at her best pace, never looking back; reached the road quite successfully and, by dint of running most of the way, arrived, panting, at the side door of Redlands, just as the gong sounded for five o'clock tea. CHAPTER XII IN TROUBLE Joey slipped into her place at table, hoping that Miss Lambton would not notice her grubby hands and rough hair. There had only been just time to tear off her coat and hat in the nearest cloakroom, belonging to the Sixth Form by right; tidying had to go by the board. She squeezed in between Noreen and Barbara. "I've got a scrummy box of chocs," she whispered.