tate of boredom。 He tried counting sheep。 He tried going over his past life in his mind from the earliest moment he could recollect； and thought he had never encountered a duller series of episodes。 He found a temporary solace by playing a succession of mental golf…games over all the courses he could remember； and he was just teeing up for the sixteenth at Muirfield； after playing Hoylake； St。 Andrews； Westward Ho； Hanger Hill； Mid…Surrey； Walton Heath； Garden City； and the Engineers' Club at Roslyn； L。 I。； when the light ceased to shine through the crack under the door； and he awoke with a sense of dull incredulity to the realisation that the occupants of the drawing…room had called it a day and that his vigil was over。
But was it？ Once more alert； Sam became cautious。 True； the light seemed to be off； but did that mean anything in a country…house； where people had the habit of going and strolling about the garden at all hours？ Probably they were still popping about all over the place。 At any rate； it was not worth risking ing out of his lair。 He remembered that Webster had promised to e and knock an all…clear signal on the door。 It would be safer to wait for that。
But the moments went by； and there was no knock。 Sam began to grow impatient。 The last few minutes of waiting in a cupboard are always the hardest。 Time seemed to stretch out again interminably。 Once he thought he heard foot…steps； but that led to nothing。 Eventually； having strained his ears and finding everything still； he decided to take a chance。 He fished in his pocket for the key； cautiously unlocked the door； opened it by slow inches； and peered out。
The room was in blackness。 The house was still。 All was well。 With the feeling of a life…prisoner emerging from the Bastille； he began to crawl stiffly forward： and it was just then that the first of the disturbing events occurred which were to make this night memorable to him。 Something like a rattlesnake suddenly went off with a whirr； and his head； jerking up； collided with the piano。 It was only the cuckoo…clock； which now； having cleared its throat as was its custom before striking； proceeded to cuck eleven times in rapid succession before subsiding with another rattle： but to Sam it sounded like the end of the world。
He sat in the darkness； massaging his bruised skull。 His hours of imprisonment in the cupboard had had a bad effect on his nervous system； and he vacillated between tears of weakness and a militant desire to get at the cuckoo…clock with a hatchet。 He felt that it had done it on purpose and was now chuckling to itself in fancied security。 For quite a minute he raged silently； and any cuckoo…clock which had strayed within his reach would have had a bad time of it。 Then his attention was diverted。
So concentrated was Sam on his private vendetta with the clock that no ordinary happening would have had the power to distract him。 What occurred now was by no means ordinary； and it distracted him like an electric shock。 As he sat on the floor； passing a tender hand over the egg…shaped bump which had already begun to manifest itself beneath his hair； something cold and wet touched his face； and paralysed him so pletely both physically and mentally that he did not move a muscle but just congealed where he sat into a solid block of ice。 He felt vaguely that this was the end。 His heart stopped beating and he simply could not imagine it ever starting again； and； if your heart refuses to beat； what hope is there for you？
At this moment something heavy and solid struck him squarely in the chest； rolling him over。 Something gurgled asthmatically in the darkness。 Something began to lick his eyes； ears； and chin in a sort of ecstasy： and； clutching out； he found his arms full of totally unexpected bulldog。 〃Get out！〃 whispered Sam tensely； recovering his faculties with a jerk。 〃Go away！〃
Smith took the opportunity of his lips having opened to lick the roof of his mouth。 Smith's attitude in the matter was that providence in its all…seeing wisdom had sent him a human being at a moment when he had reluctantly been pelled to reconcile himself to a total absence of such indispensable adjuncts to a good time； and that now the revels might mence。 He had just trotted downstairs in rather a disconsolate frame of mind after waiting with no result in front of Webster's bedroom door； and it was a real treat to him to meet a man； especially one seated in such a jolly and sociable manner on the floor。 He weled Sam like a long…lost friend。
Between Smith and the humans who provided him with dog…biscuits and occasionally with sweet cakes there had always existed a state of misunderstanding which no words could remove。 The position of the humans was quite clear。 They had elected Smith to his present position on a straight watch…dog ticket。 They expected him to be one of those dogs who rouse the house and save the spoons。 They looked to him to pin burglars by the leg and hold on till the police arrived。 Smith simply could not grasp such an attitude of mind。 He regarded Windles not as a private house but as a social club； and was utterly unable to see any difference between the human beings he knew and the strangers who dropped in for a late chat after the place was locked up。 He had no intention of biting Sam。 The idea never entered his head。 At the present moment what he felt about Sam was that he was one of the best fellows he had ever met and that he loved him like a brother。
Sam； in his unnerved state； could not bring himself to share these amiable sentiments。 He was thinking bitterly that Webster might have had the intelligence to warn him of bulldogs on the premises。 It was just the sort of woollen…headed thing fellows did； forgetting facts like that。 He scrambled stiffly to his feet and tried to pierce the darkness that hemmed him in。 He ignored Smith； who snuffled sportively about his ankles； and made for the slightly less black oblong which he took to be the door leading into the hall。 He moved warily； but not warily enough to prevent him cannoning into and almost upsetting a small table with a vase on it。 The table rocked and the vase jumped； and the first bit of luck that had e to Sam that night was when he reached out at a venture and caught it just as it was about to bound on to the carpet。
He stood there； shaking。 The narrowness of the escape turned him cold。 If he had been an instant later； there would have been a crash loud enough to wake a dozen sleeping houses。 This sort of thing could not go on。 He must have light。 It might be a risk： there might be a chance of somebody upstairs seeing it and ing down to investigate： but it was a risk that must be taken。 He declined to go on stumbling about in this darkness any longer。 He groped his way with infinite care to the door； on the wall adjoining which； he presumed； the electric…light switch would be。
It was nearly ten years since he had last been inside Windles； and it never occurred to him that in this progressive age even a woman like his aunt Adeline； of whom he could believe almost anything； would still be using candles and oil…lamps as a means of illumination。 His only doubt was whether the switch was where it was in most houses； near the door。
It is odd to reflect that； as his searching fingers touched the knob； a delicious feeling of relief came to Samuel Marlowe。 This misguided young man actually felt at that moment that his troubles were over。 He positively smiled as he placed a thumb on the knob and shoved。
He shoved strongly and sharply； and instantaneously there leaped at him out of the darkness a blare of music which appeared to his disordered mind quite solid。 It seemed to wrap itself round him。 It was all over the place。 In a single instant the world had bee one vast bellow of Tosti's 〃Goodbye。〃
How long he stood there； frozen； he did not know： nor can one say how long he would have stood there had nothing further e to invite his notice elsewhere。 But； suddenly； drowning even the impromptu concert； there came from somewhere upstairs the roar of a gun； and； when he heard that； Sam's rigid limbs relaxed and a violent activity descended upon him。 He bounded out into the hall； looking to right and to left for a hiding…pla