It needed considerable courage, for his instinct was always to hide when he had incurred Dick’s anger.  Judicial though it invariably was, it was the most terrible thing the world held for him.  It shook him to the depths, and to go down and confront it again with the penalty still unpaid was for a long time more than he could calmly contemplate.  But as the minutes crept on and still Dick did not come, it was gradually borne in upon him that this, and this alone, was the thing that must be done.  It was his job, forced upon him by an inexorable fate.  Dick would probably be much more angry with him for doing it, but somehow in a vague, unreasoning fashion he realized that it had got to be done.

Even then it took him a long time to screw himself up to the required pitch of nervous energy required.  He ached for the sound of Dick’s step on the stairs, but it did not come.  And so at last he knew there was no help for it.  Whatever the cost, he must fulfil the task that had been laid upon him.

With intense reluctance he uncovered his face, flinching from the stark glare of the lamp across the road, and dragged himself to his feet.  It was difficult to move without noise, but he made elaborate efforts to do so.  He reached the head of the stairs and hung there listening.

Had he heard a movement below he would have stumbled headlong back to cover, but no sound of any sort reached him.  The compelling force urged him afresh.  He gripped the stair-rail and crept downward like a stealthy baboon.

The stairs creaked alarmingly.  More than once he paused, prepared for precipitate retreat, but still he heard no sound, and gradually a certain desperate hope came to him.  Perhaps Dicky was asleep!  Perhaps the power that drove him would be satisfied if he collected some things on a tray and left them in the little hall for Dicky to find when he finally came up!  If this could be done—­and he could get back safe to the sheltering darkness before he found out!  He would not mind the subsequent caning, if only he need not meet Dicky face to face again beforehand.  Dicky’s eyes when they looked at him sternly were anguish to his soul.  And they certainly would not hold any kindness for him until the punishment was over.  So argued poor Robin’s anxious brain as he reached the foot of the stairs and stood a moment under the lamp dimly burning there, summoning strength to creep past the open door of the dining-room.

A candle was flickering on the table, so he was sure Dick must be there.  Would he see him pass?  Would he call him in?  Robin’s heart raced with terror at the thought.  But no!  The urging force drove him in sickening apprehension past the door, and still there was no sound.

He was at the kitchen-door at the end of the passage, his fingers fumbling at the latch when suddenly he remembered that he had no candle.  There was no candle to be had!  The only one available downstairs was the one Dick had taken into the dining-room.  He could not go upstairs again to get another.  He had no matches wherewith to explore the kitchen.  He stood struck motionless by this fresh problem.