Mingling with the crowd, he made his way towards the yellow caravan. It stood a little apart; there was no cover near enough to conceal his approach. What should he do? He stood looking about him. He must hide somewhere, for it was not quite eleven yet; there was over an hour to wait until the coast would be clear for him to go to the yellow caravan. At eleven all the people would be turned out of the circus field, and only the gipsies would be left. Then, to his relief, he noticed that the cart belonging to the boat swings was the nearest one to the yellow caravan. It was empty save for the big tarpaulins used for covering the swings when they were packed up. It would be a perfect hiding place. He waited until some of the crowd moved that way, and then he went too. Climbing quickly up by the wheel he slipped softly inside and drew the tarpaulin over him. Breathlessly he listened, but there was no sound of any one following him.
Presently a clock struck eleven, and a bell, like a very loud muffin bell, clanged above the other circus noises, and Danny listened to the sound of the crowd going out at the gate and making its way homewards along the country roads. Then, very stealthily, he managed to peer out. He saw a crowd of the gipsies collected round the big camp fire. The red glow lit up their faces. Others hurried about, clearing up. And among them Black Bill strode to and fro, giving orders.
Danny had managed to arrange himself in such a way that he could see out quite easily, and yet not be seen. He watched anxiously while the gipsies moved about, and one by one retired to their caravans. At last there was no one left but the two night watchmen by the fire. Black Bill had also retired to his caravan, which was drawn up alongside the yellow one. At about a quarter to twelve Danny saw him come out and walk towards the gate. The two watch men were evidently good scouts, for they both turned at once and watched him go.
“Now’s my time,” said Danny to himself, with a queer feeling within him, half of excitement, half of fear. The question of how he should cross the open space from his hiding-place to the yellow caravan troubled him, for the two night watchmen might very easily see him. “If only a cloud would pass across the moon, I would make a dash for it,” he told himself. Then he noticed something. The moon was throwing the black shadow of the boat swings right across the open space to the caravan. It was a narrow strip of shadow, but a good Scout can make use of the smallest cover.
Slipping softly down from the cart on the side farthest from the watchmen, Danny crawled round and lay quite flat for a moment in the shadow. But the men did not move or turn their heads—they had not heard him. Then, dragging himself along on his elbows, he slipped like a snake along the black line, which made him invisible. When he was half-way across, one of the ponies grazing near started, with a snort of surprise. The two men turned at once and looked straight in Danny’s direction. Instantly he dropped his head, hiding his face in the grass; it was the only white thing about him, and might attract their attention. With pounding heart he waited, not moving a muscle. But there was no sound of approaching footsteps. Slowly he raised his head and looked. Thank God, the men had not seen him!
Slowly, slowly he crept on, until he passed under the caravan. At last he was safe on the other side. Standing up on the hub of the wheel he tapped gently on the window. It was opened at once and he found himself face to face with the dancing girl.
CHAPTER XVI
DANNY FINDS MARIETTE—AND IS KIDNAPPED
She was no longer a dark-brown colour, nor had she long black hair. As Danny looked at her sad little pale face it seemed to him that she was extraordinarily like the Tramp!
“Oh, you’ve come, you’ve come—thank God!” whispered the girl. “I knew you would,” she added. “Scouts are like the knights in old days, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” said Danny, “I promised I would. Tell me, quick, what am I to do?”