Finally they were ready to sleep and Polly was about to snuff the candle before jumping into bed, when Nancy suddenly whispered: “S—sh!”
POLLY TIP-TOED TO THE WINDOW.
The four sat up and strained their sense of hearing. “I heard a queer noise just outside our door,” whispered Nancy.
“I’ll tip-toe over and see who it is,” whispered Polly, acting as she spoke.
“No—no! Don’t open the door! That gipsy may be there,” cried Nancy, fearfully.
But another scratching sound under the low window now drew all attention to that place. Polly slowly tip-toed silently to the open window and tried to peer out. The trees and vines made the back of the garden shadowy and she could not see if anyone were under the window, or trying to get in somewhere else.
The other three girls now crept out of bed and joined Polly at the window. They waited silently, and were soon rewarded for their patience. They distinctly heard voices almost under their window, whispering carefully, so no one would be awakened.