Then, dragging the old woman farther into the lighted room, she stood with her face turned to the lamp, and told in whispers the story of what they had to fear.
“Heaven send that Joey has not gone off on purpose to be out of this!” cried the old woman, lifting up her shaking hands with an imploring gesture.
“No, no, I am sure he has not,” whispered Nell; “for in that case he would have waited until the cars had gone as usual. But I must go now, for I have to watch the big shed, even though I may not be able to save the stuff. Give me a bit of bread that I can carry with me, and the pancake must wait until I have more time to eat it.”
“It is such a beautiful pancake, and I made it for your birthday,” said the old woman, regretfully, as she cut a generous chunk from the loaf.
Nell started. She had forgotten about it being her birthday; and then, remembering her last birthday, she wondered if always the date was to mark change and upheaval in her life.
But she had no time for speculation now, and, eating a mouthful of bread, she gulped down a cup of hot tea without sugar or milk; after which she noiselessly emerged from the house door, and, making a wide detour by way of Joey’s garden, gained the other side of the railway track.
She meant to creep as far as the derelict freight-car if she could, but to reach it there was an open moon-lit space to cross. Once hidden in the freight-car, she believed that she would be able to see without being seen, so that if a raid were really made on the big shed she might be able to know in which direction the things were taken away.
But, as she crouched waiting in the shadow of the trees until the passing of the moon left the open space in shadow once more, a slouching step sounded, coming nearer and nearer, and, to her amazement, Doss Umpey came into view.
“Granfer!” she cried, startled into forgetfulness of the need there was for keeping herself out of sight.
Just then, from far away down the valley came the faint whistle of a train.