LOVEDAY could scarcely sleep at all that night, she was so afraid that they would not wake up early enough to start. In fact, she was so afraid of oversleeping that after Bessie had seen her to bed and said “Good-night,” she slipped out again and put on some of her clothes, partly that she might be so far dressed when morning came, and partly that the of them might prevent her sleeping too soundly.  
Her plan answered well. All night she was constantly turning and waking, and she was glad enough when daylight came at last. She did not know what the time was, but she got up, and, tiptoeing out, called Aaron. It was not very easy to wake him; he had not troubled to sleep in his clothes, or to do anything else to make him wake early. Loveday, afraid to shout at him, or to make any noise at all, took the water-bottle, thinking that a drop or two of water on his face might answer better than anything, but the water, unfortunately, did not drop—it poured all down his face and neck in a cold stream, and Aaron started up with a howl which filled Loveday with dismay and vexation.
 
“Oh, you silly, you!” she cried crossly; “do be quiet, and don’t be so stupid. Don’t you remember what we are going to do?”
 
“Yes,” said Aaron, cross enough himself now, “but I want to go to sleep.” He did not feel at all in the mood for playing at being a pisky. Loveday, though, was , and after a moment the sleepiness and crossness passed, and he began to feel the excitement of their plan.
 
“Make haste and dress,” said Loveday firmly. “I shan’t be long.”
 
And in a short space of time they had dressed and crept out of her window, and were hurriedly up the steep cliff-path.
 
“Oh, how lovely!”
 
Young as she was, Loveday had to keep on stopping to admire the beauty of the scene; the sea, and sky, and land, all radiant in the glorious glow of sunrise, the sparkling heavy sea, the towering cliffs, and over all the singing of happy birds. More than once they had to pause on their way and gaze about them.
 
“I wish we could always get up as early as this,” sighed Loveday. “I think I shall, and I’ll try and make Priscilla and Geoffrey get up too; the other parts of the day are never so pretty. I wish Prissy could see it now.”
 
“I’ve seen it like this scores of times,” said Aaron, in a tone that implied: “This is nothing to me; I am used to it.”
 
“And yet you wanted to stay on in bed and sleep,” flashed Loveday scornfully.
 
But with so much before them to be done, they could not linger long to gaze, and presently making up their minds not to stop again, they hurried on as fast as they could, and by the time they reached Mr. Winter’s gate they were too full of their own daring to have any thoughts to spare for anything else.
 
“I can’t think why people have such noisy stuff put on their paths,” said Loveday, after they had made several vain attempts to creep over the loose without making a sound. She was glancing up at the windows all the time, for it really seemed to her that their attempts must have roused every one in the house.
 
“What shall we do first?” she whispered to Aaron. “I think the flower-beds look the worst of all, but if they never draw up the blinds they won’t see how nice we’ve made them.”
 
And if this was not quite the real reason, and if Loveday’s courage did fail at the thought of setting things right there, who could wonder when one looked at the state of the place? It was a task which would have taken two or three men many days of hard work.
 
“Shall we begin by weeding the steps and the path before the door?” she suggested, and, Aaron agreeing, they fell to work busily.
 
“Does Mr. Winter ever come out of this door and walk here?” she asked.
 
She was very full of curiosity as to Mr. Winter and his doings.
 
“Yes,” said Aaron; “he comes out this way to go to that garden over there, where they grow fruit and vegetables. He takes a brave bit of interest in that garden.”
 
Loveday sat back on her heels, and looked in the direction Aaron was pointing.
 
“He built a high wall all round it, so’s he shouldn’t see the sea and nobody shouldn’t see him.”
 
“I think we’ve done enough here for one day, don’t you?” sighed Loveday, who weeding.
 
“That I do,” declared Aaron emphatically.
 
“Can’t we do something in that garden now, where Mr. Winter would see it, and be glad, and wonder who did it?”
 
Aaron nodded, and rose stiffly to his feet. “I wish ’twas breakfast-time,” he sighed.
 
Loveday thought the kitchen-garden by far the nicest bit that she had seen yet of Mr. Winter’s grounds. She felt safer there, too, for she could not be seen from the house, nor heard, and the place itself did not seem so hopeless of improvement. There was plenty to be done, or so they thought, but what they did, did make some show.
 
“I think we will tidy away all that straw first of all,” she said; “it makes that bed look so untidy, and I expect all the slugs and go to sleep in it. We can’t burn it to-day, so we’ll put it in a heap here for the time, and perhaps to-morrow we’ll bring some matches. If we’re very early nobody will see the smoke.”
 
But Aaron was doubtful of that.
 
“Porthcallis folks gets up early,” he said, “and father might see it as he brought the boat in. The smoke would show for miles round.”
 
They found a supply of tools in a shed in the garden, but they were rather big and heavy, so they gathered up the straw in their arms, and carried it away, which caused a good deal of running over the bed, and left many footprints.
 
“I think we ought to rake it over before we go,” said Loveday, looking at it rather anxiously; “nobody would think piskies’ feet had left marks like that.”
 
Aaron agreed, and between them they used the long rake, until the bed looked really quite nice and tidy.
 
“Oh dear,” sighed Loveday, as they put away the tools at last, “I think piskies must get very tired.”
 
“And hungry, too!” sighed Aaron, who felt .
 
“I am starving,” said Loveday, “but I think it must be nearly breakfast-time.”
 
“It isn’t five yet, I believe,” said Aaron dolefully; “and breakfast won’t be ready till past seven.”
 
“More than two hours to wait!” Loveday; “I can’t, I simply can’t. Don’t you think we’ve done enough for one day?” she asked, after a moment’s pause.
 
“Don’t I!” said Aaron, in a tone which said plainly that on this matter he had no doubt.
 
Very, very carefully the pair crept out of the kitchen-garden, past the house, and over the path.
 
“I wish we had made that part look a little nicer,” said Loveday, glancing with tired, wistful eyes over the bit of ground around the house, “but I s’pose even piskies couldn’t do it all at once, could they?”
 
“No, not unless there are hundreds of ’em,” said Aaron, “and we’m only two.”
 
The glorious were fading fast from the sky now, and the sun shone with the pale clear light of early morning. The sea still sparkled, and the birds sang, but the children paid little to either; they were too hungry and tir............