“It has quite a colonial look,” said Webster. “Witness the high, narrow windows, the small lights of glass, the many stone steps, and the tremendous main door.”
Austin suddenly clutched Kenyon by the arm.
“Look there!” he breathed.
“What is it?” in the same low tone.
“At the window, to the right. It was a woman.”
“I got a little glimpse of her,” said Saginaw. “And, say, she looked as if she was tip-toeing around.”
“That was my impression, too,” replied Austin, wonderingly. “Every movement seemed caution itself.”
“A servant, perhaps,” suggested Webster.
They remained in the shadow of the trees for some little time watching the window indicated; but the woman did not reappear.
“I should like to get nearer the house,” said Kenyon. “But it’s rather a ticklish proceeding to cross those shafts of light; for there is really no knowing how many of those dozen men may be lying about in the dark.”