Meanwhile the March wind， after dropping a while atsundown， had been steadily increasing in volume； andalthought I fell asleep at my usual hour， about midnight I waswakened by the stress and cry of it. In the bright moonlight，wind-swung branches tossed and swayed eerily across theblinds； there was rumbling in the chimneys， whistling in thekeyholes， and everywhere a clamour and a call. Sleep was outof the question， and， sitting up in bed， I looked round. Edwardsat up too. “I was wondering when you were going to wake，”
he said. “It’s no good trying to sleep through this. I vote we getup and do something.”
“I’m game，” I replied. “Let’s play at being in a ship at sea”
（the plaint of the old house under the buffeting wind suggestedthis， naturally）； “and we can be wrecked on an island， or lefton a raft， whichever you choose； but I like an island bestmyself， because there’s more things on it.”
Edward on reflection negatived the idea. “It would make toomuch noise，” he pointed out. “There’s no fun playing at ships，unless you can make a jolly good row.”
The door creaked， and a small figure in white slippedcautiously in. “Thought I heard you talking，” said Charlotte. “Wedon’t like it； we’re afraid—Selina too. SHe’ll be here in a minute.
She’s putting on her new dressing-gown she’s so proud of.”
His arms round his knees， Edward cogitated deeply untilSelina appeared， barefooted， and looking slim and tall in thenew dressing-gown. Then， “Look here，” he exclaimed： “nowwe’re all together， I vote we go and explore.”
“You’re always wanting to explore，” I said. “What’s there toexplore for in this house？”
“Biscuits！” said the inspired Edward.
“Hooray！ Come on！” chimed in Harold， sitting up suddenly.
He had been awake all the time， but had been shamming sleep，lest he should be fagged to do anything.
It was indeed a fact， as Edward had remembered， that ourthoughtless elders occasionally left the biscuits out， a prize forthe night-walking adventurer with nerves of steel.
Edward tumbled out of bed， and pulled a baggy old pair ofknickerbockers over his bare shanks. Then he girt himself witha belt， into which he thrust， on the one side a large woodenpistol， on the other an old single-stick； and finally he donneda big slouch-hat—once an uncle’s—that we used for playingGuy Fawkes and Charles-the-Second-up-a-tree in. Whateverthe audience， Edward， if possible always dressed for his partswith care and conscientiousness； while Harold and I， trueElizabethans， cared little about the mounting of a piece， solong as the real dramatic heart of it beat sound.
Our commander now enjoined on us a silence deep as thegrave， reminding us that Aunt Eliza usually slept with an opendoor， past which we had to file.
“But We’ll take the short cut through the Blue Room，” saidthe wary Selina.
“Of course，” said Edward， approvingly. “I forgot about that.
Now then！ You lead the way！”
The Blue Room had in prehistoric times been added toby taking in a superfluous passage， and so not only had theadvantage of two doors， but enabled us to get to the head ofthe stairs without passing the chamber wherein our dragonauntlay couched. It was rarely occupied， except when acasual uncle came down for the night. We entered in noiselessfile， the room being plunged in darkness， except for a brightstrip of moonlight on the floor， across which we must passfor our exit. On this our leading lady chose to pause， seizingthe opportunity to study the hang of her new dressing-gown.
Greatly satisfied thereat， she proceeded， after the femininefashion， to peacock and pose， pacing a minuet down themoonlit patch with an imaginary partner. This was too muchfor Edward’s histrionic instincts and after a moment’s pausehe drew his single-stick， and with flourishes meet for theoccasion， strode onto the stage. A struggle ensued on approvedlines， at the end of which Selina was stabbed slowly and withunction， and her corpse borne from the chamber by the ruthlesscavalier. The rest of us rushed after in a clump， with capers andgesticulations of delight； the special charm of the performancelying in the necessity for its being carried out with the dumbestof dumb shows.
Once out on the dark landing， the noise of the storm withouttold us that we had exaggerated the necessity for silence； so，grasping the tails of each other’s nightgowns， even as Alpineclimbers rope themselves together in perilous places， wefared stoutly down the stair-case moraine， and across the grimglacier of the hall， to where a faint glimmer from the halfopendoor of the drawing-room beckoned to us like friendlyhostel-lights. Entering， we found that our thriftless seniors hadleft the sound red heart of a fire， easily coaxed into a cheerfulblaze； and biscuits—a plateful—smiled at us in an encouragingsort of way， together with the halves of a lemon， already oncesqueezed， but still suckable. The biscuits were righteouslyshared， the lemon segments passed from mouth to mouth； andas we squatted round the fire， its genial warmth consoling ourunclad limbs， we realized that so many nocturnal perils hadnot been braved in vain.
“It’s a funny thing，” said Edward， as we chatted， “how I hatethis room in the daytime. It always means having your facewashed， and your hair brushed， and talking silly company talk.
But to-night it’s really quite jolly. Looks different， somehow.”