“Where were you? Why did you slink out of the room into the kitchen? How dare you leave me and go off like that? Just when we needed you! I’m ashamed of you, Timmy — you could have caught that fellow easily!”

“Oh don’t,” said Berta, almost in tears. “Poor Timmy! Don’t, George!”

Then George turned on Berta. “You just let me scold my own dog if he needs it! And you go and scold yours too. I bet Timmy followed your horrid little woolly pet out into the kitchen — it was her fault, not his!”

“Shut up, George,” said Julian. “Your temper gets us nowhere. Calm down and let’s hear what you saw. CALM DOWN, I say.”

George stared at him, about to retort with something defiant. Then Timmy gave a small whimper — his heart was almost broken to hear George — George, his beloved mistress,—rave at him in such anger. He had no idea what he had done to displease her.

The whimper brought George to her senses. “Oh Timmy!” she said, and knelt down and flung her arms round his neck. “I didn’t mean to shout at you. I was so angry because we missed our chance of getting that man who was peeping in at us. Oh Timmy, it’s all right, it really is.”

Timmy was extremely glad to hear it. He licked George lavishly, and then lay down by her very soberly. He wished he knew what all the excitement was about.

So did Joan. She thumped on the table to get everyone’s attention, and at last got Julian to explain everything to her. She stared out of the window, half-thinking that she could see faces in the darkness outside. She drew the blind down sharply.

“We’ll go to bed,” she said. “All of us. I don’t like this. And I shall ring up the police and warn them. Master Leslie, you come with me straightaway now.”

“I think perhaps you’re right, Berta,” said Julian. “I’ll lock up everywhere. Come on, girls.”

Timmy was astonished and upset to find himself handed over to Joan and Berta. Was George still cross with him then? It was a very very long time since he had slept away from her at night. He cheered up a little when he saw that Sally was going to be with him, and trotted rather mournfully up the attic stairs to Joan’s room.

Joan soon got Berta into bed, and then undressed herself. She fastened the window and locked the door. She gave Timmy a rug in a corner, and Sally jumped up on Berta’s bed as usual.

“Now we ought to be quite safe!” said Joan, and settled creakingly into her bed.

On the floor below the two boys followed the same procedure, and so did Anne and George. Doors were locked and windows fastened, though it was a hot night and they were all sure they would be melted by the morning. George couldn’t bear to think of Timmy with Berta and Joan — especially as she had been so very cross with him. She lay in bed, full of remorse. Dear, kind, faithful Timmy — how could she have shouted at him like that?