The day dragged by very slowly. At half-past six Fatty left Pip's, with Larry, and the two of them went to Fatty's house. They were to have dinner early, at seven—then their adventure would begin. All the children felt excited, but only Fatty did not show it. He appeared to be as calm as ever.
The two boys made a very good meal indeed. Then Fatty put the pink stuff on his face and after that they set out to go down to the river. They meant to take the path over the fields, then go by the water-side, and so come to the Fair without meeting a lot of people.
They arrived at the Waxworks Hall. "How are you going to get in?" whispered Larry, suddenly seeing that the place was shut and in darkness.
"Didn't you spot me undoing the catch of one of the windows when we were here this morning?" whispered Fatty. "I'm going to get in there. I say—what about you coming in too, in case I get into difficulties over dressing? You can easily hop out of the window afterwards."
"Yes, I will," said Larry, pleased at the idea of watching Fatty dress himself as Napoleon. "Where's the window?"
"It's this one," said Fatty, and looked cautiously round. "Anyone about? Not a soul I Here goes, then!"
He opened the window quietly, hauled himself up and dropped down into the hall. Larry followed. The boys shut the window carefully, in case any one noticed that it was open.
The hall wasn't dark, because a lamp from the Fair nearby shone into it, and gave a fint and rather eerie light to the still waxworks.
The boys looked round them. The figures somehow seemed more alive than in .the daytime, and Larry gave a little shiver. Silly fancies crept into his head. Suppose wax figures came alive at night and walked and talked!
What a dreadful shock it would give him and Fatty!