"He doesn't like to be put in the wrong," said Miss Ward. "He wants to prove that you haven't got any courage. He'd be disappointed if he found you had."
"All right," said Mr. Farrer again. "You're an angel for coming to tell me."
"Father would call me something else, I expect," said Miss Ward, with a smile. "Good-bye. I want to get back before he wakes up."
She was back in her chair, listening to her father's slumbers, half an hour before he awoke.
"I'm making up for to-morrow night," he said, opening his eyes suddenly.
His daughter nodded.
"Shows strength of will," continued the sergeant-major, amiably. "Wellington could go to sleep at any time by just willing it. I'm the same way; I can go to sleep at five minutes' notice."
"It's a very useful gift," said Miss Ward, piously, "very."
Mr. Ward had two naps the next day. He awoke from the second at twelve- thirty a.m., and in a somewhat disagreeable frame of mind rose and stretched himself. The house was very still. He took a small brown- paper parcel from behind the sofa and, extinguishing the lamp, put on his cap and opened the front door.
If the house was quiet, the little street seemed dead. He closed the door softly and stepped into the darkness. In terms which would have been understood by "our army in Flanders" he execrated the forefathers, the name, and the upbringing of Mr. Edward Farrer.