Now, all might have gone well for the little conspirators¹ but for Evelyn herself. But when the girls, tired with talking, tired with the spirit of adventure, had lain down—Sylvia in Jasper’s bed, and Evelyn in the new little white couch which had been got so lovingly ready for her—Sylvia, tired out, soon fell asleep; but Evelyn could not rest. She was pleased, excited, relieved, but at the same time she had a curious sense of disappointment about her. Her heart beat fast; she wondered what was happening. It seemed to her that in this tiny room at the back of the kitchen she was in a sort of prison. The sense of being in prison was anything but pleasant to this child of a free country and of an untrained mother. She slipped softly out of bed, and going to the window, unbarred the heavy shutters² and looked out.  
There was a moon in the sky, and the garden stood in streaks³ of bright light, and of dense⁴ shadow where the thick yew-hedge shut away the cold rays of the moon. Evelyn’s white little face was pressed against the pane⁵. Pilot stalked up and down outside, now and then baying to the moon, now and 363 then uttering a suspicious bark, but he never glanced in the direction of the window out of which Evelyn looked. To the right of the window lay the hens’ run and hen-house which have already been mentioned in these pages. Evelyn knew nothing about them, however; she thought the view ugly and uninteresting. She disliked the thick yew-hedge and the gnarled old yew-tree, and grumbling⁶ under her breath, she turned from the window, having quite forgotten to close the shutters. She got into bed now and fell asleep, little knowing what mischief⁷ she had done.
 
For it was on that very same night that Mr. Leeson determined⁸, not to bury his bags of gold, but to dig them up. He was in a weak and trembling condition, and what he considered the most terrible misfortune had overpowered him, for the large sums which he had lately invested in the Kilcolman Gold-mines had been irretrievably lost; the gold-mines were nothing more nor less than a huge fraud, and all the shareholders⁹ had lost their money. The daily papers were full of the fraudulent scheme, and indignation was rife¹⁰ against the promoters of the company. But little cared Mr. Leeson for that; one fact alone concerned him. He, who grudged¹¹ a penny to give his only child warmth and comfort, had by one fell blow lost thousands of pounds. He was almost like a man bereft¹² of his senses. When Sylvia had left him that evening he had stood for some time in the cold and desolate¹³ parlor¹⁴; then he sat down and began to think. His money was invested 364 in more than one apparently¹⁵ promising¹⁶ speculation¹⁷. He meant to call it all in—to collect it all and leave the country. He would not trust another sovereign in any bank in the kingdom; he would guard his own money; above all things, he would guard his precious savings¹⁸. He had saved during his residence at The Priory something over twelve hundred pounds. This money, which really represented income, not capital, had been taken from what ought to have been spent on the necessaries of life. More and more had he saved, until a penny saved was more valuable in his eyes than any virtue¹⁹ under the sun; and as he saved and added sovereign to sovereign, he buried his money in canvas bags in the garden. But the time had come now to dig up his gold and fly. There were three trunks in the box-room; he would divide the money between the three. They were strong, covered with cow-hide, old-fashioned, safe to endure even such a weight as was to be put into them. ............