“Edward and Jim? No. I was wakened because a stone hit me on the head.” Grif slid between the bed-clothes while Palmer, with wrinkled forehead, still gazed at him, as if uncertain what he should do next. “Are you all right?” he asked doubtfully. “Are you sure I shouldn’t fetch Miss Annesley or Miss Johnson? I mean, oughtn’t you to get something to drink――brandy or something? How long were you out?” “I don’t know. Not very long.... I’ll be all right thanks.... I was frightened a little when I first woke up, because I didn’t know where I was; but as soon as I saw Pouncer I knew.” There was a silence till Grif added, “I’m awfully sorry, Palmer.” “Sorry! What about? You couldn’t help it, could you?” “Oh, I don’t mean about this: but――for being so beastly this evening――what I said to you.” “Oh, that! I’d forgotten what you said,” answered Palmer, truthfully. “I don’t think it was fair to me, of course. I mean, I really _do_ think there’s something wrong about Bradley. For one thing, I know he’s not here under his own name. Bradley is only a part of his name. I found that out this afternoon. His real name is Tennant. I haven’t told anybody else, and _he_ doesn’t know I know. I’m telling you in confidence.” “All right. And you will keep it a secret about my having walked in my sleep?” Palmer considered. “No, I won’t,” he said. “I’m going to tell Miss Annesley in the morning. And I’m going to stay with you myself to-night.” “But!” Grif cried in astonishment and indignation. Palmer patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t get in a bate. It’s not that I want to tell but that I must. It’s too dangerous. You might just as easily have gone out by the window as by the door, and if you had you wouldn’t be talking to me now.” “I wouldn’t have been killed,” said Grif stubbornly. “It’s not very high. Besides, there’s grass below.” “You’d have been badly hurt anyway. And you _might_ have been killed: you might have fallen on your head.” “But I won’t do it again. I told you I hadn’t, for more than a year; and the doctor at home said I had outgrown it.” “Well, you see you haven’t. I’m not going to risk it, Grif, so there’s no use arguing. Of course, if you let me nail up your window to-morrow so that it will only open a few inches, and let me lock your door from the outside every night, I dare say that might do. But if I _do_ do that it will be seen at once, so it will all come to the same in the end.” “I hate having my door locked from the outside.” “_Some_thing must be done.” Grif was silent. “Do you think it would be a dreadful thing to die, Palmer?” he asked suddenly. The question was not of a kind Palmer was accustomed to, but he was always ready to discuss a problem. “I think it would be dreadful to die in a stupid sort of way like that. I think it’s all right running risks for some purpose, and I’d run them myself fast enough; but this has no purpose, it’s simply waste.”