or, if there were no body, where was Mark?

More immediately, however, where was Cayley? As quickly as he
could Antony had got to the front of the house and was now lying
in the shrubbery which bordered the lawn, waiting for the light
to go up in Cayley's window. If it went up in Bill's window,
then they were discovered. It would mean that Cayley had glanced
into Bill's room, had been suspicious of the dummy figure in the
bed, and had turned up the light to make sure. After that, it
was war between them. But if it went up in Cayley's room--

There was a light. Antony felt a sudden thrill of excitement.
It was in Bill's room. War!

The light stayed there, shining vividly, for a wind had come up,
blowing the moon behind a cloud, and casting a shadow over the
rest of the house. Bill had left his curtains undrawn. It was
careless of him; the first stupid thing he had done, but--

The moon slipped out again .... and Antony laughed to himself in
the bushes. There was another window beyond Cayley's, and there
was no light in it. The declaration of war was postponed.

Antony lay there, watching Cayley into bed. After all it was
only polite to return Cayley's own solicitude earlier in the
night. Politeness demanded that one should not disport oneself on
the pond until one's friends were comfortably tucked up.

Meanwhile Bill was getting tired of waiting. His chief fear was
that he might spoil everything by forgetting the number "six."