“’Sh!” she interrupted, suddenly. “Listen. I can hear the rolling sound outside the front door now—and the back door.”
“Not both at once?” queried Molly.
“Yes, I can. Listen.”
“Then—oh, then it must be Jack as well—if there are two Pumpkins,” cried Molly tremulously. “But I don’t expect he can help us,” she went on quietly. “He’s under the power of the Pumpkin entirely; he’ll just have to obey orders.”
Molly was thinking rapidly. What was she to do? How could she reach the Leaf before the Pumpkin touched her. Every moment she expected to hear three taps on one of the doors, and see it swing open and the Pumpkin roll in. She made Miss Lydia sit at the top of the stairs, and she herself stood half-way up, ready to run, if necessary. What was she to do? So far the Pumpkin had made no attempt to enter the house, but was content to bide his time outside. Unfortunately Molly did not know which door he was waiting at, nor which of the two Grey Pumpkins outside was the real Pumpkin and which was Jack.
How could she reach the Black Leaf before the Pumpkin or the spies could stop her? Try to reach it she must, yet she knew if she stepped outside she would not stand a moment’s chance. On the other hand, she and Miss Lydia might remain shut up in this house for ever so long—perhaps until the thirteen days were up and the Leaf had disappeared; and then the Pumpkin could tap on the door and enter, and they would be powerless to defend themselves. If only something would happen to distract the watchers outside, just for half a minute, that would be time enough—she could reach the Leaf in less time than that. Oh, how tantalizingly near the Leaf seemed—and yet how far away.
Presently Molly asked, “Is there a tree in your garden that grows anywhere near one of the upstairs windows, Miss Lydia? I didn’t notice when I ran through the rooms.”
“There is one at the side of the house,” said Miss Lydia. “It can be reached from my bedroom window—the branches tap against the window-pane. Why? What do you want to know about the tree for?”
“Wait a moment,” said Molly. “I’ll just run up and have a look at it first.”
While she was upstairs she had another look out of the studio window also. Of course the Leaf was still there—and the two crouching figures among the tall plants. Molly had thought out her plan by this time, and noticed with satisfaction that evening was rapidly approaching. For, “It must be done in the dusk,” she told herself. “Just before the moon comes up.”