"Yes," the stranger owned, "but I don't know that there wasn't somethingmore extraordinary still. From time to time the child in the stateroomkept piping up, with a shriek for help. She had got past the burglarstage, but she wanted to be saved, anyhow, from some danger which shedidn't specify. It went through me that it was somewhat strange nobodycalled the porter, and I set up a shout of 'Porter!' on my own account.I decided that if there were burglars the porter was the man to put themout, and that if there were no burglars the porter could relieve ourgroundless fears. Sure enough, he came rushing in, as soon as I calledfor him, from the little corner by the smoking-room where he wasyellowing boots between dozes. He was wide enough awake, if having hiseyes open meant that, and he had a shoe on one hand and a shoe-brush inthe other. But he merely joined in the general up-roar and shouted forthe police."

"Excuse me," Wanhope interposed. "I wish to be clear as to the facts.You had reasoned it out that the porter could quiet the tumult?"

"Never reasoned anything out so clearly in my life."

"But what was your theory of the situation? That your friend, Mr.Melford, had a eveningmare in which he was dreaming of burglars?"

"I hadn't a doubt of it."