Richard struck the box out of the hand that proffered it and fell heaped up into a chair beside the table. "No pleasure to us you stay awake, eh, Laurence, eh?" "'Course not. Now don't look at me like that, old fellar, I was thundering decent to you when first you arrived. Barring smoke, literature and alcohol it was a home from home. It's your own pigeon things have got a bit tight. Doesn't pay striking out against the odds." "You little rat," said Richard turning a bit in his chair. "I'd like----" and he closed his fist. "Silly talk, old chap, waste of time." "I could waste a lot of time that way." Laurence humped his shoulders. "What are you to do with a fellar like this?" Van Diest drew up a chair and smiled over the rims of his glasses. "Of course we let you go to sleep if you waas sensible. Consider now the small shareholders that look to us for their little incomes. All these widows from the war. You speak and you wass a rich man all at once. Very soon forget the discomforts of these three weeks. S'no goot--no goot to make a fuss." "I have nothing to say." "Ach!" said Van Diest and rose. "I'm afraid, Laurence, we must take away this bed." But Richard raised no further protest and somewhere below stairs a gong rumbled for lunch. It was part of the programme to emphasise the arrival of meals and in spite of himself he could not resist starting hungrily. Such signs and tokens were watched for. Laurence laid a hand on his shoulder and whispered: "There's a fourth place laid, old friend." "Why not join us to the lunch," said Van Diest coaxingly, "just a word spoken and--oh, it's goot the lunch." "Thanks, but I'm rather particular who I sit with," said Richard and moved unsteadily toward the fireplace. "It's rather a special menu," Laurence remarked. "There's a lobster Americaine--that was in Hipps' honour. But perhaps you don't care for shellfish, Barraclough." "No, no, thank you. Prefer a Spartan diet. Glass of water and a piece of bread." "Bread? Yes. I hope the baker remembered to call. Be awkward if---- Well, come along, Chief, no good letting things get cold." They passed out of the room and the bolt slammed home. With a crazy impulse Richard staggered across the floor, seized the door handle and shook it violently. One of those violent paroxysms of hunger suddenly possessed him which while they endure are acute agony. The longing for food gripped at his vitals like an eagle's claw and drove reasoned action from his head. He knew well enough that there was no escape to be made through the shuttered windows but ignoring the knowledge he leapt toward them and seized the iron cross-bar. As he lifted it from its slot the alarm bell above the frame rang out a fiery summons.