They went back over the dark hillside. A few stars were out, but the moon was not yet up. “That was a jolly interesting evening,” said Dick. “I enjoyed it. I like your aunt and uncle, Jo.”

Jo was delighted. She always loved praise from Dick. She went under the girls’ caravan, and rolled herself up in the rug. She had been taught to clean her teeth and wash and do her hair, by the foster-mother she had lived with for some months — but all that was forgotten now that she was leading a gypsy life again!

“In a day or two she’ll be the filthy, dirty, tangly-haired, rude girl she was when we first knew her,” said George, combing out her own hair extra well. “I’m glad we’re going to stay here after all, aren’t you, Anne? I really do think the fair people are friendly towards us now.”

“Thanks to Jo,” said Anne. George said nothing. She didn’t like being under obligation to Jo! She finished preparing herself for bed and got into her bunk.

“I wish we’d seen that face at the window, don’t you, Anne?” she said. “I do wonder whose it was — and why it was there, looking out.”

“I don’t think I want to talk about faces at windows just now,” said Anne, getting into her bunk. “Let’s change the subject.” She blew out the lamp and settled down. They talked for a few minutes, and then George heard something outside the caravan. What could it be? Timmy raised his head and gave a little growl.

George looked at the window opposite. A lone star shone through it — and then something came in front of the star, blotted it out, and pressed itself against the glass pane. Timmy growled again, but not very loudly. Was it someone he knew?

George flashed on her torch, and immediately saw what it was. She gave a little giggle. Then she called to Anne.

“Anne! Anne! Quick, there’s a face at the window. Anne, wake up!”

“I’m not asleep,” said Anne’s voice, and she sat up, scared. “What face? Where? You’re not just frightening me, are you?”

“No — there it is, look!” said George and shone her torch at the window. A big, long, dark-brown face looked in, and Anne gave a shriek. Then she laughed. “You beast, George — it’s only Alfredo’s horse. Oh, you did give me a fright. I’ve a good mind to pull you out of your bunk on to the floor. Go away, you silly staring horse — shoo, go away!”

Chapter Thirteen

Off to the castle

Next morning, as they had breakfast, the children discussed the face at the castle window again. They had levelled the field-glasses time and again at the window, but there was nothing to be seen.

“Let’s go and see over the castle as soon as it opens,” said Dick. “But mind — nobody is to mention faces at windows — you hear me, Jo? You’re the one who can’t keep your tongue still sometimes.”