It was so still that his own footsteps made him jump. It was quite dark, too, as the lamps were out, and he could only feel his way; but he got safely to the top of the nursery stair, and began tiptoeing up the passage. A chink of light under the day-nursery door showed him the fire was still in. One thing is certain, and that is that luck favours brave people. Master Bogey went in, and the first thing he saw was his dear doll at the window, looking out, no doubt, for a glimpse of himself in the tree. The pink lady and the blue lady were asleep in their chairs by the hearth, their eyes shut, their muffs in their laps and their hats tied firmly under their chins. The poor doll ran to him and put her arms round his neck. She looked very woebegone and her clothes were more tattered than ever. She had no shoes at all now. “I’ve come to take you away,” said Master Bogey. “You must come back to my tree and we will be married at once, and then I can see you every day for the rest of my life.” “Do you _really_ mean it?” asked the doll. “Yes, yes!” cried he. “Come at once, this very moment, before anyone catches us. My father and mother are waiting for you, and we are to have the top branches to live in.” The poor little thing could hardly believe her ears. She liked Master Bogey better than anyone she had ever seen, and now she was going away from cruel Jane, and the blue and pink ladies, who sneered at everything. She held his hand tight and they went stealing out. She was so happy she did not know what to do. They felt their way along safely till they got almost to the hall, and then, alas! alas! Master Bogey missed his footing on the last flight of stairs and rolled from the top to the bottom. Bump, bump, he went, and landed in a heap on the mat. He had just time to pick himself up before a door opened and the mother of Josephine, Julia and Jane came out of her bedroom with a candle in her hand. She could not see into the hall, but she began to come downstairs. Master Bogey and the doll went straight to a corner where rows of coats hung from pegs, and got behind the thickest fur cloak they could find. He took her up in his arms, so that her little white feet should not show underneath it; his own black ones he kept quite still. In the light of the candle they only seemed like dark shadows. The lady held up her light and looked round. She was much prettier than any of her daughters, and though her hair was now in a pigtail like Jane’s, it really suited her. She peeped under tables and behind chests, and then she came to the row of cloaks and began prodding them to see if anyone was hidden behind them. It was an awful moment. What saved them was the fact that Bogeys are seldom very tall; though young Master Bogey was such a fine-grown lad, he was scarcely three feet high. Jane’s mother prodded the cloak just above his head and passed on without feeling anything. Just then a man’s face looked over the banisters above.