Nora reached out her arms, grasped the pear tree, and slipped down to the ground.
“Now then, we must be off,” said Molly. “I hope Pilot won't bark.” She was alluding to the big watchdog. “But there, I'll speak to him; he is very fond of me.”
The girls stole across the grass. The dew lay heavy on it; their footsteps made no sound. Presently they reached the front of the house, and Pilot, with a deep bay, flew to meet them.
“Pilot! Pilot! quiet; good dog!” said Molly. She went on her knees, flung her arms round the dog, and began to whisper in his ear.
“He understands,” she said, looking up at Nora. The great creature seemed to do so; he wagged his feathery tail from side to side and accompanied the girls as far as the gate.
“Now, go home, go home,” said Molly. She then took Nora's hand, and they ran down the road in the direction of the village.
“If it were not that you are so miserable I should enjoy this awfully,” said Molly.
“But how do you mean to wake Stephie?” asked Nora at last.
“Well, luckily for us, her aunt, Miss Truefitt, is rather deaf. Miss Truefitt has a bedroom at the back of the house, and Stephanotie sleeps in front. I shall fling gravel at the window. There is not a soul, as you see, in the streets. It's well that it is such a quiet place; it will serve our purpose all the better.”
They now found themselves outside Miss Truefitt's house. Molly took up a handful of gravel and flung it in a great shower at Stephanotie's window. Both girls then waited eagerly for a response. At first there was none; once again Molly threw the gravel.