And, having settled this, his one desire now was to travel over the

map upon journeys of exploration and discovery. The map inside himself

he knew already, but the map of the Other Wing he had not seen. His

mind knew it, he had a clear mental picture of rooms and halls and

passages, but his feet had never trod the silent floors where dust and

shadows hid the flock of dreams by day. The mighty chambers where

Sleep ruled he longed to stand in, to see the Ruler face to face. He

made up his mind to get into the Other Wing.

To accomplish this was difficult; but Tim was a determined

youngster, and he meant to try; he meant, also, to succeed. He

deliberated. At night he could not possibly manage it; in any case,

the Ruler and her host all left it after dark, to fly about the world;

the Wing would be empty, and the emptiness would frighten him.

Therefore he must make a daylight visit; and it was a daylight visit

he decided on. He deliberated more. There were rules and risks

involved: it meant going out of bounds, the danger of being seen, the

certainty of being questioned by some idle and inquisitive grown-up:

“Where in the world have you been all this time” —and so forth. These

things he thought out carefully, and though he arrived at no solution,

he felt satisfied that it would be all right. That is, he recognised

the risks. To be prepared was half the battle, for nothing then could

take him by surprise.

The notion that he might slip in from the garden was soon

abandoned; the red bricks showed no openings; there was no door; from

the courtyard, also, entrance was impracticable; even on tiptoe he

could barely reach the broad window-sills of stone. When playing alone,

or walking with the French governess, he examined every outside

possibility. None offered. The shutters, supposing he could reach

them, were thick and solid.

Meanwhile, when opportunity offered, he stood against the outside

walls and listened, his ear pressed against the tight red bricks; the

towers and gables of the Wing rose overhead; he heard the wind go

whispering along the eaves; he imagined tiptoe movements and a sound of

wings inside. Sleep and her Little Ones were busily preparing for

their journeys after dark; they hid, but they did not sleep; in this

unused Wing, vaster alone than any other country house he had

ever.seen, Sleep taught and trained her flock of feathered Dreams. It

was very wonderful. They probably supplied the entire county. But more

wonderful still was the thought that the Ruler herself should take the

trouble to come to his particular room and personally watch over him

all night long. That was amazing. And it flashed across his

imaginative, inquiring mind: “Perhaps they take me with them! The

moment I’m asleep! That’s why she comes to see me!”

Yet his chief preoccupation was, how Sleep got out. Through the

green baize doors, of course! By a process of elimination he arrived

at a conclusion: he, too, must enter through a green baize door and

risk detection.

Of late, the lightning visits had ceased. The silent, darting

figure had not peeped in and vanished as it used to do. He fell asleep

too quickly now, almost before Jackman reached the hall, and long

before the fire began to die. Also, the dogs and birds upon the

curtains always matched the trees exactly, and he won the curtain game

quite easily; there was never a dog or bird too many the curtain never

stirred.