By-and-by he went out the third time and stayed longer. Then he returned, thrust his head under the curtain and uttered a short bark of impatient questioning, “Yap!”
“The genie,” said Mark, awaking. He had been dreaming.
“What’s the time?” said Bevis, sitting up in an instant, as if he had never been asleep. Pan leaped on the bed and barked, delighted to see them moving.
“Three o’clock,” said Mark. “No; why it’s stopped!”
“It’s late, I know,” said Bevis, who had gone to the doorway and lifted the curtain. “The sun’s high; it’s eight or nine, or more.”
“I never wound it up,” said Mark, “and—well I never! I’ve left the key at home.”
“It was my key,” said Bevis. One did for both in fact.
“Now we shan’t know what the time is,” said Mark. “Awfully awkward when you’re seven thousand miles from anywhere.”
“Awful! What a stupe you were; where did you leave the key?”
“On the dressing-table, I think; no, in the drawer. Let’s see, in my other waistcoat: I saw it on the floor; now I remember, on the mantelpiece, or else on the washing-stand. I know, Bevis; make a sundial!”