d now,' Oswald said to the stranger, 'we will wake
you in good time. And you may sleep as sound as you like. We'll wake you
all right.'

'You might wake me about eight,' he said; 'I ought to be getting on.
I'm sure I don't know what to say in return for the very handsome
reception you've given me. Good-night to you all, I'm sure.'

'Good-night,' said everyone. And Dora added, 'Don't you bother. While
you're asleep we'll think what's best to be done.'

'Don't _you_ bother,' said the stranger, and he absently glanced at his
own clothes. 'What's big enough to get out of's big enough to get into.'

Then he took the candle, and Dicky showed him to his room.

'What's big enough to get out of,' repeated Alice. 'Surely he doesn't
mean to creep back into prison, and pretend he was there all the time,
only they didn't notice him?'

'Well, what are we to do?' asked Dicky, rejoining the rest of us. 'He
told me the dark room at Dover was a disgrace. Poor chap!'

'We must invent a disguise,' said Dora.

'Let's pretend he's our aunt, and dress him up--like in "Hard Cash,"'
said Alice.

It was now three o'clock, but no one was sleepy. No one wanted to go to
sleep at all till we had taken our candles up into the attic and
rummaged through Miss Sandal's trunks, and found a complete disguise
exactly suited to an aunt. We had everything--dress, cloak, bonnet,
veil, gloves, petticoats, and even boots, though we knew all the time,
in our hearts, that these were far too small. We put all ready on the
parlour sofa, and then at last we began to feel in our eyes and ears and
jaws how late it was. So we went back to bed. Alice said she knew how to
wake exact to the minute, and we had known her do it before, so we
trusted her, and agreed that she was to wake us at six.

But, alas! Alice had deemed herself cleverer than she was, by long
chalks, and it was not her that woke us.

We were aroused from deep slumber by the voice of Mrs. Beale.

'Hi!' it remarked,'wake up, young gentlemen! It's gone the half after
nine, and your gentleman friend's up and dressed and a-waiting for his
breakfast.'

We sprang up.

'I say, Mrs. Beale,' cried Oswald, who never even in sleep quite loses
his presence of mind, 'don't let on to anyone that we've got a visitor.'

She went away laughing. I suppose she thought it was some silly
play-secret. She little knew.

We found the stranger looking out of the window.

'I wouldn't do that,' said Dora softly