Hitherto these naughty sprites had been content to carry their baskets full of artfully-concealed provisions to a disused attic which was exactly over the box-room, and consequently out of reach of the inhabited part of the house. Here, making a table of a great chest which stood in the attic, they feasted gloriously, undisturbed by the musty smell or by the innumerable spiders and beetles which disappeared rapidly in all directions at their approach; but when Annie one day incautiously suggested that on summer nights the outside world was all at their disposal, they began to discover flaws in their banqueting-hall. Mary Price said the musty smell made her half sick; Phyllis declared that at the sight of a spider she invariably turned faint; and Susan Drummond was heard to murmur that in a dusty, fusty attic even meringues scarcely kept her awake. The girls were all wild to try a midnight picnic out of doors, and Annie in her present mood, was only too eager for the fun.
With her usual skill she organised the whole undertaking, and eight agitated, slightly frightened, but much excited girls retired to their rooms that night. Annie, in her heart of hearts, felt rather sorry that Mrs Willis should happen to be away; dim ideas of honour and trustworthiness were still stirring in her breast, but she dared not think now.
The night was in every respect propitious; the moon would not rise until after twelve, so the little party could get away under the friendly shelter of the darkness, and soon afterwards have plenty of light to enjoy their stolen feast. They had arranged to make no movement until close on midnight, and then they were all to meet in a passage which belonged to the kitchen regions, and where there was a side door which opened directly into the shrubbery. This door was not very often unlocked, and Annie had taken the key from its place in the lock some days before. She went to bed with her companions at nine o’clock as usual, and presently fell into an uneasy doze. She awoke to hear the great clock in the hall strike eleven and a few minutes afterwards she heard Miss Danesbury’s footsteps retiring to her room at the other end of the passage.
“Danesbury is always the last to go to bed,” whispered Annie to herself; “I can get up presently.”
She lay for another twenty minutes, then, softly rising, began to put on her clothes in the dark. Over her dress she fastened her waterproof, and placed a close-fitting brown velvet cap on her curly head. Having dressed herself, she approached Susan’s bed with the intention of rousing her.
“I shall have fine work now,” she said, “and shall probably have to resort to cold water. Really, if Susy proves too hard to wake, I shall let her sleep on—her drowsiness is past bearing.”
Annie, however, was considerably startled when she discovered that Miss Drummond’s bed was without an occupant.
At this moment the room door was very softly opened, and Susan, fully dressed and in her waterproof, came in.
“Why, Susy, where have you been?” exclaimed Annie. “Fancy you being awake a moment before it is necessary!”
“For once in a way I was restless,” replied Miss Drummond, “so I thought I would get up, and take a turn in the passage outside. The house is perfectly quiet, and we can come now; most of the girls are already waiting at the side door.”