“I can’t bear to look and I can’t bear not to,” said Dick, pretending to shield his eyes and almost trembling with nervousness. “If she fell now — what should we do?”

“Do shut up,” said Julian, between his teeth. “She won’t fall. She’s like a cat. There — she’s making for the window next to George’s. It’s open at the bottom.”

Jo now sat triumphantly on the broad window-sill of the room next to George’s. She waved impudently to the boys far below. Then she pushed with all her might at the window to open it a little more. It wouldn’t budge.

So Jo laid herself flat, and by dint of much wriggling and squeezing, she managed to slip through the narrow space between the bottom of the window-pane and the sill. She disappeared from sight.

Both boys heaved heartfelt sighs of relief. Dick found that his knees were shaking. He and Julian retired into the underground passage below the steep steps and sat there in silence.

“Worse than a circus,” said Dick at last. “I’ll never be able to watch acrobats again. What’s she doing now, do you suppose?”

Jo was very busy. She had fallen off the inside window-sill with a bump, and bruised herself on the floor below. But she was used to bruises.

She picked herself up and shot behind a chair in case anyone had heard her. Nobody seemed to have heard anything, so she peeped cautiously out. The room was furnished with enormous pieces of furniture, old and heavy. Dust was on everything, and cobwebs hung down from the stone ceiling.

Jo tiptoed to the door. Her feet were bare and made no sound at all. She looked out. There was a spiral stone stairway nearby going downwards, and on each side was a door — there must be four rooms in the tower then, one for each corner, two windows in each. She looked at the door next to the room she was in. That must be the door of George’s room.

There was a very large key in the lock, and a great bolt had been drawn across. Jo leapt across and dragged at the bolt. It made a loud noise and she darted back into the room again. But still nobody came. Back she went to the door again, and this time turned the enormous key. It was well oiled and turned easily.

Jo pushed open the door and put her head cautiously round. George was there — a thin and unhappy George, sitting by the window. She stared at Jo as if she couldn’t believe her eyes!

“Psssst!” said Jo, enjoying all this very much indeed. “I’ve come to get you out!”

Chapter Twenty

The adventure boils up

George looked as if she had seen a ghost. “Jo!” she whispered. “It can’t really be you.”

“It is. Feel,” said Jo, and pattered across the room to give George quite a hard pinch. Then she pulled at her arm.

“Come on,” she said. “We must go before Red comes. Hurry! I don’t want to be caught.”