of the house. The younger girls were in bed, and the elder ones were with the teachers downstairs.
"We must be sure to work the right strings," breathed Lindsay. "Have you got yours? This was mine, with a knot at the end."
She gave a smart pull, and the bobbin rattled loudly inside the box. They could hear it plainly, even through the closed door.
"What is that?"
The question came in an anxious and wideawake tone from within the room.
"I don't know. Oh, there it is again!"
The voice this time was Effie's.
"It sounds as if it were under the bed!"
"Oh, surely it's not a rat!"
"Now for it!" whispered Cicely, pulling the second string.
The result was all they could have desired. A series of yells proceeded from the four-post bed, sufficient not only to rouse the occupants of the other rooms on the landing, but to bring Miss Frazer hurrying up from the library. Lindsay and Cicely dropped their strings and fled, not a second too soon. They could hear Miss Frazer striking a match to light the candle, and her exclamation when she discovered the cause of the uproar.
"All the girls have turned out to see what's the matter," said Cicely. "If you and I don't go too, they'll know who's done it."
"I think we shall have to own up, in any case," replied Lindsay.
"It was worth the scolding," she declared afterwards, when Miss Frazer had administered a due homily on the danger of practical jokes. "I only wish I could have seen their faces when the rat plumped on to them. They needn't talk of screaming at nothing, and if they ever begin to tease us about anything again--well, we'll just say 'Rats!'"
CHAPTER IV
Haversleigh
There never was such a glorious place as the Manor. Upon that point the whole school perfectly agreed. The garden was as fascinating as the house, and proved an absolute dream of delight, with its smooth bowling-green, its winding paths, its charming little arbours overgrown with creepers, its clipped yew hedges, and its unexpected flights of steps. It might have been designed as a kind of terrestrial paradise for girls. The big lawns afforded space for so many tennis courts that there was no need for the younger ones to hover about, waiting enviously until their elders had finished before they could get a chance of a game; and there was plenty of room left for croquet and clock golf. The shrubbery and the plantation were ideal spots for hide-and-seek (almost too good, Lindsay said, because it was so very difficult to find anybody); while the various rustic seats scattered under the trees made sewing and reading a luxury on hot days, when no one felt inclined for violent exercise. A stone-flagged terrace ran the entire length of the front of the Manor, proving an invaluable playground when the grass was too wet for games in the garden; and a roomy summer-house stood near the bowling-green, so big that it was capable of sheltering all the school during a thunder shower.
Beyond the avenue, and at the farther side of the shrubbery, was a maze. Marvellous little narrow, twisting paths, with high hedges of clipped box, wound round and round in an utterly bewildering manner, most of them either ending blindly or turning back to the original entrance, and only one of the number leading to the arbour in the centre. For a long time the girls amused themselves with trying to discover the proper clue. Cicely, like Hansel, dropped pebbles to show which paths she had already traced; Lindsay essayed to cut the Gordian knot by creeping through the hedge; and it was only after many and repeated trials that they were at last able to solve the puzzle.
In the midst of one of the lawns grew a grand old yew tree, the lower branches of which were easy to climb. It was a favourite haunt of the younger girls, each having her special seat, and here they might often be seen perched like birds, and certainly chattering enough to suggest a flock of magpies. A stalwart oak close by supported a swing that was far more romantic than the