ay and
listened; but he resolved that to-night he would not be frightened,
would not think of the Captain.

He said the Lord's Prayer five times, then counted sheep jumping over
the gate, a safe solution for sleepless hours. He saw the sheep--first
one a very fat one, then one a very thin one; but the gate stood at
the bottom of a little hill, so that it was very difficult for the poor
creatures, who jumped and slipped back on the incline. Then a lot
of sheep insisted on jumping together, and he could hardly count
them--forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight.... He was asleep.

After a long, long time of soundlessness, of lying upon a sea that was
like a bed of down, and looking up, happily into clear blue light, he
was once more conscious of the rain. Yes, there it was with its sweeping
rush, its smash upon the pane, its withdrawal, its trickling patter and
heavy drops as though it were striking time. Yes, that was the rain and
that--What was that?

He was wide awake, lying back against his pillow, but his eyes staring
in front of them till they burnt. The house was absolutely dark,
absolutely silent, but between the attacks of the rain there was a
wound, something that had not to do with the house nor with the weather.
He strained with his ears, sitting up in bed, his hands clutching the
bed clothes. He heard it quite clearly now. Someone was moving in the
nursery.

With that the whole of his brain was awake and he knew quite clearly,
beyond a shadow of any doubt, what had happened; the Captain had come
to fetch him. With that knowledge an icy despair gripped him. He did
not want to go. Oh, he did not want to go! He was trembling from head
to foot so that the bed shook beneath him, his breath came in little hot
gasping pants, and his eyes were wide with terror. He was helpless. The
Captain would only say "Come," and go he must, leave his warm house and
his parents whom he loved and Mary and Helen and Hamlet, yes, and even
Miss Jones. He would be dragged down the long white road, through the
lighted village, out on to the shiny beach, in a boat out to the dark
ship--and then he would be alone with the Captain, alone in the dark
ship, with the Captain's heavy hand upon his shoulder, his mouth
smiling, his great legs drawing him in as a spider draws a fly into its
web, and everyone asleep, only the stars and the dark water. He tried
to say the Lord's Prayer again, but the words would not come. The sweat
beg