Bradley ate and drank. As he sat at his platter and mug, Riderhood saw him, again and yet again, steal a look at the neckerchief, as if he were correcting his slow observation and prompting his sluggish memory. “When you’re ready for your snooze,” said that honest creature, “chuck yourself on my bed in the corner, t’otherest. It’ll be broad day afore three. I’ll call you early.”

“I shall require no calling,” answered Bradley. And soon afterwards, divesting himself only of his shoes and coat, laid himself down.