"Well, it is queer! You needn't laugh at me so. I'm not going to stay here any longer; I vote we go out into the garden."
Pictures that moved were rather more than Cicely had bargained for. Mysteries were all very well in their way, but she began to feel it was possible to have too much of a good thing. It was a distinct relief to her to leave the gloomy old gallery, with its armour and tapestry, and walk out into the fresh air and sunshine. There was still half an hour to be disposed of before tea, and the two girls sauntered leisurely in the direction of the kitchen-garden.
"I wish I knew where the boathouse used to be that Sir Piers wanted the key for," said Lindsay.
"It was not very far away, I dare say. The river runs somewhere at the bottom of those fields."
"I wonder if there's a path."
"I believe there's one at the end of the orchard. I saw Scott walking down there once."
"Shall we go and see?"
"All right!"
The orchard was forbidden ground. Perhaps, though, the fact that they risked a scolding, or even a mark for bad conduct, only made the adventure more interesting. They ascertained first that Scott was safely attending to his tomatoes in the greenhouse, then they dived hastily between the rows of young apple trees. Cicely was right. At the far end there was a small gate that led into a meadow.
"The river must be over there, hidden by those willows," said Lindsay.