“And of course it was she who made the birds tell us their stories,” said Alix, “so we really should be very much obliged to her. Just think what nice games we’ve made out of them; and what nice things we’ve begun to get ready for the poor children next Christmas. I do think, Rafe, we’ve never felt dull since we’ve played so much in the Lady wood garden.”
Rafe quite agreed with her, and they made their way down the lane and through the well-known old gateway. It was the first time they had been in the deserted grounds so late of an evening. For they had had tea long ago, and it was not so very far off bedtime: already the bushes and shrubs began to look shadowy and mysterious in the twilight, and the moon’s profile—for it was about half-way to full—to gleam pearl-like up among the branches.
“We mustn’t stay very long,” said Rafe.
“Nurse won’t mind our being a little later than usual, as she’s busy packing,” said Alix. “And it’s still so hot, indoors at least. Last night I couldn’t get to sleep, though I pushed off everything except one sheet. I was just boiling. And when I told mamma she said it was no use going to bed only to toss about, and that we might as well sit up a little later.”
“I hope it will be cooler at the seaside,” said Rafe.
“It’s pretty sure to be,” Alix replied. “If it was just about as cool as it is here just now. Isn’t it lovely? And that breeze is so refreshing.”
They were standing near the walled-up mound as she spoke, and the wind came with a long sighing sound through the trees. It seemed at first like a sigh, but by degrees it changed into a soft kind of laughter, which did not fade away, but grew, as they listened, more and more distinct. And then it sounded as if coming not from up among the trees overhead, but from somewhere underground. And it was not the wind after all, for by this time everything was perfectly, strangely still. The children looked at each other; they were used to odd things happening in the garden. They just stood still and waited to see what was going to take place.
The laughing ceased, and there came a voice instead, and the voice grew clearer as the hidden door in the wall which they had sought for so often, swung round, and out from the dark passage came the small figure, red cloak, hood, and all, of Mrs Caretaker. She was still laughing just a little, and her laugh was so bright and rippling that it made the children laugh too, though they did not know why.
“And so you are going away, my dears,” said their old friend. How she got up so quickly to where they stood they did not see, but there she was, as alert as possible. And again she laughed.
“If you please, if it’s not rude, we’d like to know what you’re laughing at,” said Alix, not quite sure if she was pleased or not.