quietly up to the cottage. „Don"t go too near when you look in,"
whispered Julian. „Keep a little distance away. We shall be able to see who is in the rooms, but they mustn"t be able to see us outside. I sincerely hope they won"t!"
„Look in the downstairs rooms," said Dick. „See, that"s the kitchen window over there. Old Mrs Janes may be there, if she"s stil up."
They crept to the uncurtained window. The room was lighted by only a candle, and was full of shadows. The boys gazed in.
Old Mrs James was there, sitting up in a brown rocking-chair, clad in a dirty dressing-gown. She rocked herself to and fro, and although the boys could not see her face, they sensed that the old woman was frightened and unhappy. Her head sank on her chest, and when she put her wispy hair back from her face, her hand shook.
„She"s no witch, poor old thing!" whispered Dick, feeling quite sad to see her rocking to and fro al by herself so late at night. „She"s just a poor, frightened old woman."
„Why is she up so late?" wondered Julian. „She must be waiting for someone."
„Yes. She might be. We"d better look out then," said Toby at once, looking behind him as if he expected to see someone creeping up.
„Now let"s go round to the front," said Dick. So they tiptoed there, and saw another lighted window - much more brightly lighted than the kitchen window had been. They kept a little way from the pane, afraid of being seen. They looked in and saw two men there, sitting at a table, poring over some papers.
„Mr Gringle!" said Julian, in a low voice. „No doubt about that - and the other one must be his friend, Mr Brent, I suppose. Certainly he isn"t wearing dark glasses, as that man was we gave the butterfly to and who gave us five shil ings. He isn"t a bit like him!"
They all looked intently at the „friend". He was a perfectly ordinary man, with a small moustache, dark hair and a rather big nose. Not in the least like the „Mr Brent" they had seen the day before.
„What are they doing?" whispered Toby.
„It looks as if they"re making lists of something - probably making out bil s for their customers," said Julian. „Anyway - I must say they look perfectly ordinary sitting there, doing a perfectly ordinary job. I think Mr Gringle was speaking the truth when he said that it wasn"t Mr Brent who gave us the five shil ings and it certainly wasn"t him either that I saw on the hil -side last night with a butterfly net."
„Then who was it?" asked Dick, pul ing the others right away from the window, in order to talk more easily. „And why did he carry the butterfly net and tel that lie about moth-traps? Why was he on the hil , the night the planes were stolen?"
„Yes - why was he? I"d like to ask him that!" said Toby in too loud a voice. The others nudged him at once, and he spoke more softly. „Something funny was going on last night
- something people don"t know anything about. I"d like to find that phony Mr Brent you met on the hil -side, Julian!"
„Well, maybe we shal ," said Julian. „Now - any other window lighted? Yes - one up there, under the roof. Who"s there, I wonder?"
„Perhaps it"s Mrs Janes" son," said Dick. „It would be just like him to take one of the three bedrooms and make her sleep downstairs in the old rocking-chair! I expect the other two little rooms up there are used by the Butterfly Men."
„How can we see into the lighted room?" wondered Toby. „Look - if we got up in that tree there, we"d see in."
„There"s an easier way!" said Julian, switching his torch on and off very quickly, giving the others just half a second to see a ladder leaning against a nearby woodshed.
„Good - yes, that would be much easier," said Dick. „But we"ll have to be jolly quiet.
Whoever is in there would come to the window at once if he so much as heard the top of the ladder grating against the window-ledge!"
„Well, we"ll manage it all right," said Julian, „The window isn"t very high, and the ladder
whispered Julian. „Keep a little distance away. We shall be able to see who is in the rooms, but they mustn"t be able to see us outside. I sincerely hope they won"t!"
„Look in the downstairs rooms," said Dick. „See, that"s the kitchen window over there. Old Mrs Janes may be there, if she"s stil up."
They crept to the uncurtained window. The room was lighted by only a candle, and was full of shadows. The boys gazed in.
Old Mrs James was there, sitting up in a brown rocking-chair, clad in a dirty dressing-gown. She rocked herself to and fro, and although the boys could not see her face, they sensed that the old woman was frightened and unhappy. Her head sank on her chest, and when she put her wispy hair back from her face, her hand shook.
„She"s no witch, poor old thing!" whispered Dick, feeling quite sad to see her rocking to and fro al by herself so late at night. „She"s just a poor, frightened old woman."
„Why is she up so late?" wondered Julian. „She must be waiting for someone."
„Yes. She might be. We"d better look out then," said Toby at once, looking behind him as if he expected to see someone creeping up.
„Now let"s go round to the front," said Dick. So they tiptoed there, and saw another lighted window - much more brightly lighted than the kitchen window had been. They kept a little way from the pane, afraid of being seen. They looked in and saw two men there, sitting at a table, poring over some papers.
„Mr Gringle!" said Julian, in a low voice. „No doubt about that - and the other one must be his friend, Mr Brent, I suppose. Certainly he isn"t wearing dark glasses, as that man was we gave the butterfly to and who gave us five shil ings. He isn"t a bit like him!"
They all looked intently at the „friend". He was a perfectly ordinary man, with a small moustache, dark hair and a rather big nose. Not in the least like the „Mr Brent" they had seen the day before.
„What are they doing?" whispered Toby.
„It looks as if they"re making lists of something - probably making out bil s for their customers," said Julian. „Anyway - I must say they look perfectly ordinary sitting there, doing a perfectly ordinary job. I think Mr Gringle was speaking the truth when he said that it wasn"t Mr Brent who gave us the five shil ings and it certainly wasn"t him either that I saw on the hil -side last night with a butterfly net."
„Then who was it?" asked Dick, pul ing the others right away from the window, in order to talk more easily. „And why did he carry the butterfly net and tel that lie about moth-traps? Why was he on the hil , the night the planes were stolen?"
„Yes - why was he? I"d like to ask him that!" said Toby in too loud a voice. The others nudged him at once, and he spoke more softly. „Something funny was going on last night
- something people don"t know anything about. I"d like to find that phony Mr Brent you met on the hil -side, Julian!"
„Well, maybe we shal ," said Julian. „Now - any other window lighted? Yes - one up there, under the roof. Who"s there, I wonder?"
„Perhaps it"s Mrs Janes" son," said Dick. „It would be just like him to take one of the three bedrooms and make her sleep downstairs in the old rocking-chair! I expect the other two little rooms up there are used by the Butterfly Men."
„How can we see into the lighted room?" wondered Toby. „Look - if we got up in that tree there, we"d see in."
„There"s an easier way!" said Julian, switching his torch on and off very quickly, giving the others just half a second to see a ladder leaning against a nearby woodshed.
„Good - yes, that would be much easier," said Dick. „But we"ll have to be jolly quiet.
Whoever is in there would come to the window at once if he so much as heard the top of the ladder grating against the window-ledge!"
„Well, we"ll manage it all right," said Julian, „The window isn"t very high, and the ladder
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