"I saw my light again last night," announced Jan next morning as she fried up the remains of some cold potatoes for a breakfast dish, wielding the frying-pan with dexterous hand.
"You did?" All the boys were eagerly listening.
"In exactly the same place, but a brighter light this time; and it lasted longer, too. It didn't come and go like before; it stayed alight till ten o'clock, and then went out, for I timed it by my watch."
"Show us whereabouts," suggested Peter.
"I can, for I looked particularly. It was a pretty dark night, but the moon came out from behind a cloud once, and I could make out the outline of the Chase. The light was from the last window of the east wing. I'm going when breakfast's done, to look at the place again."
But when at last breakfast was over the results of the investigation seemed to be rather disappointing, considered in the light of a possible mystery. The window in question looked over the river, and could plainly be seen from the Island. A white curtain stretched across the panes, and a fern plant stood on a table in the window. "I don't think there's much reason why there shouldn't be a light from that room every night of the year without causing mysteries," announced Donald. "It's plainly a bedroom, or something!"
But the three Vaughans were staring open-mouthed. "It's—why it must be the room they've moved Dick into!" remarked Peter at last. "It looks as though it's come alive in the night, doesn't it? It gave me quite a shock; that's why you saw the light last night, Jan—no mystery at all!"
"But," Jan was persistent, "even if that does explain last night's light—and I suppose it