I confess I was somewhat flurried, and my account of what I had seen was not the most distinct.
"Oh!" said Chesterton, "it's some of the girl's sweethearts, I dare say; let's go down and have 'em out, Brown—shall we?"
Brown shook his head.
"Put out the lights," said I.
We did so, and then opened the shutters of the sitting-room window. We had hardly done so when the bright flash of a lantern was visible from the opposite side of the yard. For a few minutes we could see nothing else, and were obliged to hide carefully behind the shutters to avoid being noticed from below.
"Is that old Nutt?" said I.
Brown thought not. He never knew him carry a lantern.
At that moment the light disappeared, and in a few seconds we heard a loud knocking at the back-door.
"That must be the farmer come home," said I.
"No," said Brown, looking carefully into the yard, where we could now plainly distinguish at least three persons, and overhear voices in a low tone—"No; old Nutt's brown greatcoat would cover all three of those fellows."