The Fortunes of Philippa: A School StoryBrazil, Angela
History
The Fortunes of Philippa: A School Story
Brazil, Angela
Girls -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- England -- Juvenile fiction
He pulled the string, and the button tapped smartly upon the window. It
evidently had some effect, for the red curtains were drawn aside, and
the captain peered out enquiringly into the darkness.
"Unearthed!" whispered George, but Dick gave him a severe pinch for
silence, and pulled the cord again. "Rap! Tap!" sounded the button on
the pane. This time our foe threw open the sash, and, thrusting out his
head, glanced up and down the street, muttering something we could not
catch. We could see him very plainly, his red face and long white
whiskers outlined against the lamp-light of the room behind, and we
could hear his peculiar husky wheeze as he fumbled with the curtain, and
thrust aside a small table which stood in his way.
"I hope he won't catch cold!" I whispered to Cathy, feeling just a
little compunction when I heard the old man's cough. Perhaps she did,
too, for she squeezed my hand; but we were in for it now, as we did not
dare to move an inch for fear of betraying the boys.
Not finding anybody outside, the captain evidently thought he must be
mistaken. He closed the window again, carefully drew the red curtains,
and no doubt returned once more to the enjoyment of his paper and his
cigar. Loosing his string, Dick crept across the road, and, giving a
sudden sharp bang on the window-frame, he at the same moment dropped a
number of pieces of glass which he had brought with him, and which fell
on the pavement with a resounding crash. Thinking, no doubt, that his
panes were smashed to atoms, Captain Vernon appeared again, in great
wrath and utter mystification when he found that after all no visible
damage had been done. He opened the front door this time, and came a few
steps into the street, narrowly missing Dick, who had rushed back to his
point of vantage opposite. He picked up a piece of the broken glass,
examined it by the aid of his hall lamp, peered up and down once more
into the darkness, and finally went in, slamming the door after him.
"It's my turn now," whispered George. "Just watch me bait the badger!"
"Haven't you done enough?" whispered Cathy. "It seems rather too bad,
and the poor old man is getting so cross!"
"Oh, do stop, George!" I implored. "I know you'll be caught!"
"We're not half quits yet," returned George grimly. "You girls always
want to spoil things by hanging back. I wish we had left you at home
with Edward. Keep quiet now you're here, at any rate."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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