"I shall sleep to-night.

How I shall sleep!" He stretched out his aching limbs between the cool white sheets, and when the lamp was extinguished he called to each of his three friends by name to make sure of their company.

O'Toole answered with a grunt on his right, Misset on his left, and Gaydon from the corner of the room.
"But I have wanted you these last three days!" said Wogan.

"To-morrow when I tell you the story of them you will know how much I have wanted you." They got, however, some inkling of Wogan's need before the morrow came.
In the middle of the night they were wakened by a wild scream and heard Wogan whispering in an agony for help.

They lighted a lamp and saw him lying with his hand upon his throat and his eyes starting from his head with horror.
"Quick," said he, "the hand at my throat! It's not the letter so much, it's my life they want." "It's your own hand," said Gaydon, and taking the hand he found it lifeless.