He soon fell asleep. He dreamt all kinds of things. He dreamt that old Clear-Orf was chasing him, riding on Buster's back. He dreamt that Jake joined in, riding on a tiger. Then he dreamt that Luke was in front of them, running away in fright. He heard the tuneful whistle that Luke used as a signal.
Pip turned in his sleep. The dream went on. Luke was in it all the time. The whistle kept there too, insistent and clear.
Then someone clutched Pip, and he awoke with a terrible jump. He sat up, trembling, still Thinking of his dream. He gave a little yelp.
"Sh! It's me, Pip," said Bets' voice. "Don't make a noise."
"Bets!" said Pip in anger. "What do you mean by giving me a fright like this? You nearly made me jump out of my skin."
"Pip, listen! There's someone whistling in the garden," whispered Bets. "And it's Luke's little tune. You know, the one we always used to whistle to one another. Do you think it's Luke out there? Does he want us?"
Pip was now wide awake. He was just about to answer Bets when he heard the whistle again, the noise he had heard in his dreams. He now knew it had been a real whistle, not a dream one. He jumped out of bed.
"Good for you, Bets!" he said. "It must be Luke. He's left the circus for some reason and come back here. We'd better see what he wants. At least — I'll go and see what he wants. You stay here."
"I'm coming too," said Bets in an obstinate voice. "I heard him, and you didn't I'm coming too."
"You'll only fall down the stairs or something and make a row," said Pip.