"So that was what you wanted the candle for. You might have told me," she remarked.
The two girls began an animated account of their strange adventure. They were so full of it that at the moment it would have been impossible to avoid talking about it. Gerda listened calmly, though she asked one or two questions. She spoke with the constrained manner of one who is putting a strong control on herself.
"So you found nothing to explain the mystery?" she queried.
"Nothing at all. Is it Lillie who's living there and doing her own cooking?"
"And is she a girl or a spook?" added Dulcie.
"Spooks don't drink tea. She must be alive," said Deirdre. "I wonder if Miss Birks knows about her?"
"I guess we'd better not divulge the secret!" chuckled Dulcie. "What would Miss Birks say to us for trespassing in the kitchen-garden?—particularly when she's away."
"We should get into a jolly row!" agreed Deirdre.
"We shall all three get into one as it is if we don't go back quickly," observed Gerda.
Rather conscience-stricken, the chums obeyed her suggestion. They were fortunate enough to slip from the kitchen-garden without being observed, and hoped their escapade would not be discovered. After tea they hurried to make up arrears of practising, but Gerda, evading the vigilance of Mademoiselle, gave an excuse to Miss Harding and absented herself from preparation. Stealing very cautiously from the house she dived through the shrubbery and ran out on to the warren. Casting many a hasty glance behind her to see if she were observed, she hurried along till she reached the little point above St. Perran's well where a rough pile of stones made a natural beacon, easily visible from the sea or from the beach below. Taking her handkerchief from her pocket she tied it to a stick, which she planted at the summit of the pile. Waving in the breeze it was a conspicuous object. She watched it for a moment or two, then walked back along the cliff with the drooping air of one who is almost ready to collapse after meeting a great emergency.