Judith's heart was still thumping from their narrow escape when they joined the rest of the party in the common room at the head of the stairs. The blinds had been pulled up to let in the pale moonlight, and in the semi-darkness Judith could see five shadowy forms seated on their pillows around the precious box. "Are we all here?" said Sally May in a sepulchral whisper. "We are--thanks to Jane," said Judith, and the episode of the mug was told to appreciative listeners. "Put on your flash, Nancy," commanded Sally May; "no one is going to pass this door and we'll never manage to carve the chicken with this miserable knife unless we have more light." With infinite precautions the papers were unwrapped, and mouths began to water as certain favorite goodies appeared. "Who's going to carve?" asked Sally May surveying with a certain dismay a plump brown bird and a seemingly inadequate pocketknife. "Draw lots," suggested Rosamond. "Uggledy wuggledy doo, Rackety wackety boo, Out goes you!" "Here, Jane, you're it." And Jane lost no time in attacking her job. "My children! what _do_ you think? Here's a jelly or a mousse or something--it's all creamy and quivery, anyway, and we haven't any spoons!" "I asked you--" began Jane reproachfully. "Yes, I know you did, but Mother never mentioned a jelly and I thought spoons would make a noise." "Well, we'll have to have some," said Nancy practically. "Uggledy wuggledy doo," Judith felt in her bones she was going to be _it_. And she was. "Let me go," said Nancy generously. "No," said Judith, "Certainly _not_. Where'll I get spoons?" "Oh, just collect what you can," said Sally May, handing round rolls and sandwiches. "I've got a shoe-horn and a medicine spoon, and so has Jane. Watch out for Miss Marlowe." Fear and the desire to partake of the "eats" speeded Judith on her way, and she lost no time in gathering up what utensils the "Jolly Susan" could offer. Her thoughts flew to Catherine for a moment as she passed her door and she wished their beloved captain could be with them. She little knew how nearly her wish was fulfilled. On the return journey as she hurried up the corridor, having safely passed Miss Marlowe's door, she suddenly heard a soft footfall or the swish of a kimono, and then discovered a dark form bearing down upon her. Could it be Miss Marlowe? No, it wasn't tall enough. It must be Miss Ashwell. Judith flattened herself against the wall, which was fortunately in the shadow, in the hope that she would not be seen. But it was a very slender little hope, and for the second time that evening Judith was sure that their plans for a good time were ruined, when, just as she had given herself up for lost, the figure turned about and a voice, unmistakably Miss Ashwell's, said, "Bother! I've forgotten my sponge again." Another disaster averted! What a _gorgeous_ time they had! What a heavenly chicken!