His face was spread over with a ghastly pallor, and something which Nigel and Janey could not exactly define, which indeed they hardly saw with their bodily sight, but which impressed them vaguely as a kind of film. "I'm going to die," he repeated, plucking with cold fingers at the sheet. "I'll go and fetch the doctor," cried Nigel. "No ... I don't want you to leave me." "But we must do something." "There's nothing to do ... only talk to me ... and don't let me get funky." "You might look out of the window, Nigel, and see if any one's passing," said Janey. There was not likely to be any one at that hour, but he thrust his head out and eagerly scanned the lane. The rain had stopped, though the sky was shagged over with masses of cloud. One or two stars glimmered wanly above the woods. It was the constellation of Orion, setting. "There's no one," said Nigel, "nor likely to be--I must go, Len." "Oh, no ... don't ... don't leave me ... the doctor couldn't do anything.... Perhaps I won't die ... only I hate the dark." A strangling pity seized Nigel. He went over to his brother, and sat down beside the bed, taking his hand. "There, there, old boy, don't worry. We'll both stay with you. I'll hold this hand, and Janey 'ull hold the other, and you'll soon get over it." Len lay shivering and gasping. Nigel and Janey looked into each other's eyes across him, and swallowed their grief. "I--I expect it's nothing," panted Leonard. "One often feels low at this time of night." They leaned upon the bed each side of him, and suddenly Janey thrust out her hand and grasped Nigel's across him. "Now we're all three holding hands," she said. The minutes flew by. A clock was ticking--measuring them out. "Kiss me ..." moaned Leonard suddenly. They both stooped and kissed him. He shut his eyes, then opened them, and a strange, piteous resignation was in their glazing depths. "I'm sorry ... I must die.... I'm so tired." "You will go to sleep, Len." "No ... I'm too tired ... it wouldn't be enough." Janey's tears fell on his face. "Don't cry, Janey ... it's--it's all right.... Remember me to the doctor ... and say my last words were 'ninety-nine' ... laugh, Janey ... it's a joke." "Lenny, Lenny...." There was another silence, and a faint flush tinted the watery sky. A bird chirrupped in the eaves of Sparrow Hall. "Hold my hands tighter," gasped Len. They both gripped tighter. "And give my love to Tottie Coughdrop ... and say I'm sorry to have missed her.... Tighter ... oh!... tighter." His breath came in a fierce, whistling rush, and he sat bolt upright, gripping their hands and struggling. "Nigel, fetch the doctor!" shrieked Janey. But Len had his brother's hand in the agonised grip of dying. "Tighter ... oh, tighter...." There was another whistling rush of breath, but this time no struggle--only a sigh. Len fell back on the pillow, and the terror passed suddenly from his face. CHAPTER IX AND YOU ALSO SAID ...