Chapter Thirteen.
A Reprimand.
Godfrey, as it happened, had time for his excitement to calm down, for, after listening intently for Waller’s foot upon the last flight of stairs, one of which always gave out a now familiar crack, he found that he had allowed his imagination to invent, for he had not heard his companion coming up. In fact, a good ten minutes elapsed, during which the silence was profound, and, growing hotter than ever, lying there beneath the clothes, fully dressed, and after going through a great deal of exertion, the listener half raised himself to get out, either to undress or to sit down calmly and wait.
He was hesitating which to do, when there now came that unmistakable crack which made him nestle down in the bed again, and draw the clothes to his chin, just as there was the sharp rattle of the key in the door. This was flung open, and Waller sprang in, to dash through the darkness and thrust his head out of the window and look down into the gloom beneath. Drawing back directly, he faced inwards.
“Godfrey,” he whispered sharply, “where are you? Are you there?”
There was no reply.
“Do you hear?” whispered Waller, a little more loudly. “Where are you? What have you been up to?”
Still no reply, and the boy crossed quickly to place his hand upon the bed, and say, in an excited whisper as if relieved by what he had found—
“Oh, you are here. I thought you had gone. You can’t be asleep. Why don’t you speak? There,” he cried, loudly now, “you are shamming!” For his hands had been travelling over the clothes. “Why, you are dressed! There, out you come!” And catching hold of the coverlet, he stripped everything right down to the foot.
Startled at this unexpected action, Godfrey sprang up, and, with hands rapidly following the gliding clothes, he seized them, threw himself back, and dragged them up to his chin again.