But the figure only half turned with a warning gesture, and passed resolutely on.
For a moment the boy was rooted to the spot. Was this thing real? Could Bob possibly be there? The idea was incredible; yet his eyes, his ears, both bore witness to the fact. But how had it happened? what did it mean?
With thoughts in a turmoil and heart beating to suffocation, he made his way to his father's dressing-room.
"I say, father," he said breathlessly, putting his head round the door at the answer to his knock, "are you nearly dressed?"
"All but my coat," said Mr. Orban, without turning from the glass where he was carefully arranging his evening tie. "Come in if you want to."
There was an open door into the bedroom, where Eustace knew his mother was certain still to be.
"I—I would rather speak to you out here," said the boy, "if you could be quick."
Mr. Orban turned a surprised face.
"Oh, if it is a secret I am sure mother will excuse our shutting the door," he said, and suited the action to the word. "Now come, out with it. Have you been getting into some scrape, old man?"
The boy looked so extraordinarily white that Mr. Orban began to be afraid something serious had happened.