He was speaking now with his hand half over the mouthpiece, but he was forced to raise his voice, and Penny came down three steps as she heard him say:

"... Yes, yes. The children have arrived, but never fear... It is no matter... Yes, I will find the papers, and if I cannot bring them to you I will copy those that will give us a clue... Sunday I will meet you... Yes. The old mill at six and I will bring the papers if I can..."

Then Penny shifted her weight and the stair creaked. The man whipped round and she put her hand to her mouth as she recognized him.

It was the man with the little black moustache whom she had seen with Miss Ballinger at Hastings station.

2. Saturday: Mr. Grandon

Penny awoke from a bad dream to hear a weird gurgling. Then she realized that it was pouring with rain and that the gutters round the corners and gables of the house were gushing and singing. The curtains were parted, and from her pillow she could see a grey, dull sky through the open window and raindrops splashing on the corner of her dressing-table.

She jumped out of bed and closed the window. Her watch said half-past six, so she got back to bed and snuggled down for another sleep. But now she was very wide awake, and as she put her arms behind her red head and gazed gravely at the ceiling the adventure of the night came back to her.

She recalled every word spoken by the man at the telephone - the man who must surely be Mr. Grandon, her aunt's manager! The man who knew Miss Ballinger. The man who was to meet somebody at the old mill on Sunday at six and was sure that he could find the papers and had told some other mysterious person that they, "the children", had arrived.

She remembered how the stair had creaked; how she had fled back into the sheltering darkness as he had turned to look at her; how she had wished that Jon had been with her as she blundered round the corners of the long corridor and, more by luck than anything else, had found her own little staircase and the welcome light that shone like a beacon from her open door.

She remembered, too, how she had scrambled into bed with a fast-thumping heart and how, though she had strained her ears, there had been no other sound but the sighing of the wind in the rooftops.