“Exactly; and Libbie is going to be busy all the afternoon in the brew-house tapping the last barrel of cowslip wine.”
“Are you quite sure?”
“Yes. I heard her arranging with Mrs. Busson how she would bottle it to-day. When she is once in there she’ll be safely out of hearing of anything that we may do.”
“Hadn’t we better soon begin?” suggested Andrew. “You see we don’t know how long it may take.”
“We must watch Nellie off the premises first,” said Di. “We’ll go and sit under the walnut-tree near the stack-yard. We shall be able to see the back-door splendidly from there without seeming to be watching.”
“All right,” assented Andrew.
“You’re quite sure that you have got all your tools ready, Andrew?” enquired Di, presently, as the two young conspirators stretched themselves on the short grass in the shade of the venerable walnut.
“No fear,” laughed Andrew; “I think these instruments ought to suffice, even for our undertaking,” and he put his hand into his jacket pocket and rattled the chisel, hammer and gimlet which lay concealed there. “That sounds like business, eh?”
“And I’ve got two big knives,” announced Di, triumphantly.
“Knives? But what for?” cried Andrew.