The Light in the Tower
The next few days the children kept a sharp eye on the Old House. They saw smoke rising from two of the chimneys and guessed that women were at work cleaning the big place. George also went up and tried to clear the weeds from the drive, and he told the children that the new people were coming in the very next week.
“They seem in a mighty hurry to come in,” he said. “Why, that place wants painting from top to bottom - and they’re not going to have anything done except that the big boiler is to be put right!”
The children bathed and paddled, fished and boated as much as ever, but the day that the new people moved into the Old House all four of them went to hide themselves in an enormous oak tree that grew not far from the gates.
They climbed up into the tree, settled themselves down on two broad branches, leaned comfortably against the trunk of the tree, and sat there, whispering and waiting.
Presently a large removal van came along the road, and then another - but that was all.
“Funny!” said Jack, in surprise. “Only two vans of furniture for that enormous house! They must just be furnishing a small part of it.”
The vans moved in through the gates, stopped in front of the house, and the men began to unload. Then the big car belonging to Mr. Felipe Diaz came tearing along, and, just under the tree where the children hid, it had to stop, to allow a tradesman’s van to pass out of the gates.
In the car was Mr. Diaz, the yellow-haired woman, a chauffeur as dark as Mr. Diaz, and a sleepy-eyed young man who lolled back in the car, talking to the woman.
“Well,” said Mr. Diaz, hopping out of the car, and beckoning to the young man to come with him. “Here we are! You go on to the house, Anna. Luiz and I are just going to walk round the walls of the place to see that they are all right.”