Then he blew his candle out, and again he went across to the door and
listened. Opening it at last, he slithered along the familiar corridor
till he reached the three shallow steps which led up to the comparatively
new part of Old Place. There he felt his way with his fingers along the
wall to the room which had always been called, as long as he could
remember, "George's room." Turning the handle of the door slowly, he saw,
to his great surprise and gladness, that his godfather was not asleep.
Radmore was sitting up in bed, reading luxuriously by the light of four
candles which he had placed on a table by his bedside.
"Hello!" he exclaimed, as his godson's odd-looking little figure shuffled
across the room. "Why, what's the matter?" He spoke very kindly, for
Timmy's face was scared, his eyes red-rimmed with crying.
"Come to have a chat, old boy? Why, Timmy--" as he suddenly realised the
boy was fully dressed, "whatever have you been doing? I thought you'd
gone to bed ever so long ago!"
"I've been in bed a long time," answered Timmy, sidling up close to his
bed, "but I've just had a talk with Mum. I've come to ask you, Godfrey,
if you'll help me with something very important.
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