“It’s the thing about cricket that Cousin Richard gave you. Don’t bother about that now. I want to get back. I suppose we ought to make some poetry.” But Edred pulled out the paper and unfolded it. “It might vanish, you know,” he said, “or get stuck here, and when we got home we should find it gone when we came to look for it. Let’s just see what he says Kent _did_ make.” He straightened out the paper, looked at it, looked again, and held it out with a sudden arm’s-length gesture. “Look at that,” he said. “If that’s true, Richard _has_ dreamed our times, and no mistake. And, what’s more, he’s brought things back here out of our times.” Elfrida took the paper and looked at it, and her mouth dropped open. “If it’s true?” said she. “But it _must_ be true!” The paper almost fell from her hand, for it was a bill from Gamage’s for three ships’ guns, a compass, and a half-dozen flags—and the bill was made out to Mr. R. D. Arden, 117, Laurie Grove, New Cross, London, S.E. On the other side was the pencilled record of the runs made by Kent the previous Thursday. “I _say_,” said Elfrida, and was going on to say I don’t know what clever and interesting things, when she felt the fur coat creep and wriggle all through its soft length, and along its soft width, and no wriggle that ever was wriggled expressed so completely “Danger! danger! danger! You’d better get off while you can—while you can.” A quite violent ruffling of the fur round the neck of her coat said, as plain as it could speak, “Don’t stop to jaw. Go now—_now—now_!” When you say a lady is a “true daughter of Eve” you mean that she is inquisitive. Elfrida was enough Eve’s daughter to scurry to the window and look out. A thrill ran right down her backbone and ended in an empty feeling at the ends of her fingers and feet. “Soldiers!” she cried, “And they’re after us—I know they are.” [Illustration: “‘SOLDIERS!’ SHE CRIED, ‘AND THEY’RE AFTER US.’”] The fur coat knew it too, if knowledge can be expressed by wriggling. “Oh, and they’re pulling up the drawbridge! What for?” said Edred, who had come to the window too. “And, I say, doesn’t the portcullis look guillotinish when it comes down like that?” Through the window one looked straight down on to the drawbridge, and as the tower stuck out beyond the gate, its side window gave an excellent view of the slowly descending portcullis. “I say,” said Elfrida, “my fluffy coat says ‘Go!’ Doesn’t yours?” “It would if I’d listen to it,” said Edred carelessly.