‘It was not her I saw,’ he said hoarsely; ‘it was Death. I thought she had come for me. Fifi saw her too.’
I sat down on the arm of his chair.
‘Yes, old boy,’ I said, ‘I think that you and Fifi both saw some manifestation of what I heard. But there is nothing to be frightened at. But how was it you were at your window? You had gone to bed hours ago.’
‘I know, but I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and sat by the window.’
We sat there for some time after that, and by degrees Legs recovered from his collapse, and soon, instead of terror, mere sleepiness invaded his face. Once or twice he stifled a yawn, and at length he got up.
‘I am dead sleepy,’ he said. ‘I think I shall go to bed.’
‘You are not frightened any longer, are you?’ I asked.
Legs looked at me out of drooping eyelids, and he seemed puzzled.
‘Frightened? What about?’ he said. ‘Good-night.’
I was very late down next morning, and found that Helen and Legs had nearly finished breakfast. As I came in he jumped up.