visitors in the night

Through the one eye Charles had open, he was trying to make out the shape of the shadow he could see being thrown under his door. With the one ear he had open, or at least not being smothered by the pillow, he was attempting to work out what the scratching noise coming from the door was.

He had thought about getting up and opening the door, but his room was bitterly cold and he was quite cozy in bed. If the door opened, he could be up and across the room in about a second and he thought the sight of a fast moving, naked, sixty year old man, would probably have some element of surprise on the person entering. Or at the very least, would give Charles some amusement.

After a while, the noise and shadow went away and Charles fell back to sleep.

He was roused, some hours later by a frantic hammering on the door.

“Good god, if the place isn’t burning down, I will be most angry!”

He opened the door to his sister and a maid.

“Charles, look at your door!”

Scratched into the wooden door were the words.


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