lace and taking away the Crown Jewels, and she heard his
daring designs (as we always do in dreams) without the slightest
surprise or any suggestion that the Crown Jewels are kept at the Tower
instead of at Buckingham Palace. She woke suddenly, and laughed at the
absurdity of the idea. She felt hot, and threw back her eiderdown. The
other girls were sleeping quietly, and the rain was still beating
against the window in heavy showers, for it was a stormy night. The door
of the bedroom stood wide open. What was that sound coming up the stairs
from the hall below? It was certainly not the ticking of the clock. It
seemed more like muffled and stealthy footsteps. In an instant Ingred
was very wide awake indeed, and listening intently. There it came again!
She could not lie still and ignore it. She got out of bed, and with
rather shaking knees walked on to the landing and peeped over the
banisters. There was a tiny oil-lamp hanging on the wall; it faintly
illuminated the stairs. Was that somebody moving about in the darkness
of the hall? If it was a burglar, he certainly must not come upstairs,
or she would die of fright. An idea occurred to her, and acting on a
sudden impulse she dashed into Dormitory 2, roused the others, and told
them to snatch what missiles they could, and hurry to her aid.

"We'll fling things at him if he tries to come up!" she gasped, groping
for her boots.

It was a horrible experience: four nervous, quaking girls stood in the
dim light on the landing gazing down into the haunted blackness of the
shadowy hall. The sounds had ceased temporarily, but now they began
again--a distinct shuffling as of footsteps, and even a subdued sniff,
then the outline of a dark figure made its appearance, bearing straight
for the stairs.

With quite commendable bravery Ingred flung her boots at it, which
missiles were instantly followed by Nora's hairbrush, Fil's dispatch
case, and Verity's pillow. It screamed in a most unburglar-like voice,
and apparently with genuine fright.

"If you t-t-t-try to c-c-come nearer, I'll sh-sh-shoot you dead!"
quavered Ingred, wishing she had at least some semblance of a pistol to
bluff with.

"What _are_ you doing, girls?" replied the dark shadow, persisting in
its movement towards the staircase, and, as it came into the faint
circle of radiance spread by the lamp, resolving itself into the
familiar form of Nurse Warner. "Have you suddenly gone mad?"

Here was a situation! The fo