As far as she could make out, she had but to drop to the ground, run round the corner of the house along the path, or across the garden bed, and the Leaf was on the left-hand side, she remembered, close to a big tree, whose outline could be dimly seen.
Molly waited, full of doubts and anxieties. After all, was this a wise plan to try? was it too simple to have any chance of success? What a long time Miss Lydia was. Supposing her courage failed at the last moment—well, who could blame her? It was such an easy thing for Miss Lydia to do, and yet such a hard thing. The Pumpkin was almost sure to catch her—poor Miss Lydia—but it would only be a momentary triumph; Molly would soon see that things were put right again—that is, if the Pumpkin did not catch Molly too. But Molly dared not think about that. She was strung up to such a pitch of nervous excitement that every second seemed like a whole minute, while she waited. How brave it would be of Miss Lydia if she did—But what a long time she was. Could anything have happened to her? Perhaps the Pumpkin had.... Hark! what was that!
It was the sound of the back door bolts being withdrawn.
Instantly there was a stir in the garden, and a subdued murmuring floated up to Molly’s ears.
The back door was flung open noisily, and footsteps could be heard on the path. Molly got out her box of matches.
The garden was now alive with whispering figures. Several moved quickly toward the back door; there was a scuffle; a scream; the sound of footsteps running, and a dull thud, thud; then the sound of many voices, calling, shouting directions, raised high as if in some dispute.
In the midst of all this Molly dropped to the ground and ran rapidly round the corner of the house, bounded over the garden bed, skirting the clump of plants where she had seen the two spies hiding, and made straight for the big tree. Just as she reached the spot where she thought the Black Leaf was, she felt some one grab hold of her arm and she was jerked back.
“Here she is! Here she is! That’s not her at the back door! Here she is! Ah, ha...!” screamed a voice in the darkness beside her, the voice of the old woman with the horrible eyes, who had evidently run to guard the Leaf when the back door opened. “Quick! Come quick! Here she is! Now I’ve got you, my beauty!”
Immediately there was an uproar. The rush of many feet, shouts, exclamations, came from every direction. There had evidently been far more spies hiding in the garden than Molly had known.