her shoulder, and then was fortunately too frightened to scream. He
gave her hasty instructions. She was to knock at the Professor's
door and tell him that his cousin, Commander Raffleton, was there,
and would he come down at once, by himself, into the orchard.
Commander Raffleton would rather not come in. Would the Professor
come down at once and speak to Commander Raffleton in the orchard.

She went back into the house, repeating it all to herself, a little
scared.

"Good God!" said Cousin Christopher from beneath the bedclothes.
"He isn't hurt, is he?"

The little maid, through the jar of the door, thought not. Anyhow,
he didn't look it. But would the Professor kindly come at once?
Commander Raffleton was waiting for him--in the orchard.

So Cousin Christopher, in bedroom slippers, without socks, wearing a
mustard-coloured dressing-gown and a black skull cap upon his head--
the very picture of a friendly magician--trotted hastily downstairs
and through the garden, talking to himself about "foolhardy boys"
and "knowing it would happen"; and was much relieved to meet young
Arthur Raffleton coming towards him, evidently sound in wind and
limb. And then began to wonder why the devil he had been frightened
out of bed at six o'clock in the morning if nothing was the matter.

But something clearly was. Before speaking Arthur Raffleton looked
carefully about him in a manner suggestive of mystery, if not of
crime; and still without a word, taking Cousin Christopher by the
arm, led the way to the farther end of the orchard. And there, on a