coastguardsman Varco on the look-out there with his glass, and
halted.

"Hallo, Bill Varco! Wasn't it you here yesterday? Or has my memory
lost count 'pon the days o' the week?"

"It's me, right enough," said Varco; "an' no one but Peter Hosken
left with me, to take turn an' turn about. They've called the others
up to Plymouth."

"But why?" Nicky-Nan had asked: and the coastguardsman had responded:

"You can put two an' two together, neighbour. Add 'em up as you
please."

The scene and the words, repeated through his dream, came back now
very clearly to him.

"But when a man's in pain and nervous," he told himself, "the least
little thing bulks big in his mind." War? They couldn't really mean
it. . . . That scare had come and had passed, almost a score of
times. . . . Well, suppose it was War? . . . that again might be the
saving of him. Folks mightn't be able to serve Ejectment Orders in
time of War. . . . Besides, now he came to think of it, back in the
week there had been some panic in the banks, and some talk of a law
having been passed by which debts couldn't be recovered in a hurry.
And, anyway, Mr Pamphlett had forgotten about Bank Holiday.
There was no hurry before Tuesday . . .

Nicky-Nan dropped off again into a sleep punctuated by twinges of
pain.

Towards dawn, as the pain eased, his slumber grew deeper and
undisturbed. He was awakened by--What?

At first it seemed to be the same sound of sobbing to which he had
listened early in the night. Then, with a start, he knew it to be
something quite different--an impatient knocking at the foot of his
bed-chamber stairs.

Nicky-Nan shuffled out of bed, opened his door, and peered down the
stairway.

"Who's there?" he challenged. "And what's your business? Hullo!"--
catching sight of Bill Varco, coastguardsman, on the flat below--"the
house afire? Or what brings you?"

"The Reserves are called out," answered up Bill Varco. "You'll get
your paper later. But the Chief Officer's here from Troy with a
little fellow from the Customs there, and I be sent round with first
news. I've two dozen yet to warn . . . In the King's name!
An' there'll be a brake waiting by the bridge-end at ten-thirty.
If War isn't declared, it mighty soon will be. Take notice!"

Bill Varco disappeared, sharp on the word. Nicky-Nan paused a
moment, hobbled back to bed and sat on the edge of it, steadying
himself, yet half-awake.

"It's some trick of Pamphlett's