"Rather! But no such luck!"
"If the old lady has no children perhaps you'll turn out to be the heir," said Diana wistfully.
"She has nephews," said Lenox, dashing her hopes. "Besides, we must be a very far-off branch of the family tree. It's a hundred years since we settled in America. Now don't nudge me. I've just got the thing focused—swans and all."
Lenox pressed the button, and turned the film on to No. 2, then looked about him.
"I'm going to take the whole half-dozen," he announced. "Let's move on and get a different view."
There was not a soul to be seen. With the exception of the swans, the inhabitants of the Manor did not seem to be early risers. Lenox and Diana grew bolder, and ventured nearer. By degrees they got right to the edge of the moat. The view here was beautiful, for it took in the bridge and the embattled tower, with the coat of arms over the doorway. It was exactly what they wanted to carry home to America. Lenox snapped it with huge satisfaction, including the swans, which luckily swam into the scene at the psychological moment.
"I'd give worlds to be able to go inside and explore," said Diana. "I wish I could make myself invisible. D'you think we dare just toddle across the bridge, and perhaps peep in through a window? There's nobody watching. O-o-o-oh!"
She might well exclaim, for, in direct contradiction to her words, the door at that moment opened, and an elderly lady made her appearance. She walked slowly with the aid of a cane, but it was evident that she had seen the intruders on her property, and was coming to tackle them. Swift and hasty flight seemed the only way out of the difficulty.
"Quick, Lenox! Run!" gasped Diana.
She turned, as she spoke, to make a dash for the cover of the shrubs, but in her hurry and agitation she tripped on her dangling shoe lace, missed her footing, slipped, tumbled down the bank, and fell backwards with a splash into the moat.