put every theory into practice."

Smiles illuminated the faces of the committee. They began to see
daylight. Raymonde re-tied her hair ribbon, and continued:

"On that afternoon when I went exploring, I discovered a way on to the
roof exactly over Gibbie's bedroom. Now what you've got to do for the
next few days is to collect old tins. There ought to be plenty of them
about. You can leave the rest to me!"

The result of Raymonde's suggestion was an extraordinary activity on
the part of her friends in the acquisition of any species of discarded
can. They begged empty cocoa tins from the cook, and even climbed over
the wall on to the rubbish heap to rescue specimens, rusty or
otherwise, that lay there unnoticed and unappropriated. Each can was
furnished with four or five large pebbles inside, and was secured at
the end with brown paper if the original lid was lost. They were
packed in osier-plaited baskets, and hidden away in a corner of the
barn until they were wanted.

Raymonde regarded her preparations with much satisfaction.

"It ought to be enough to wake the dead!" she said, rattling one of
the tins in demonstration.

As has been before explained, the members of the Fourth and Fifth
Forms--nineteen girls in all--slept in the huge chamber which occupied
an entire wing of the house, and had been the dormitory of the French
nuns a hundred years ago. The small room at the end, formerly the cell
of the Mother Superior, was now the bower of Miss Gibbs. It had two
doors, one leading into the passage and another into the dormitory, so
that she could keep an eye upon the nineteen inmates. It was a very
unnecessary arrangement to have her so near, the girls considered, for
she would come popping in immediately if they made a noise. They
envied the Sixth, who slept in little bedrooms along the corridor, and
wished Miss Gibbs had possessed a lesser sense of duty and a greater
appreciation of luxury, so that she might have chosen a more
comfortable and spacious bedroom elsewhere.

When sufficient tin-can ammunition had been prepared, Raymonde carried
the baskets upstairs by stealth, and hid them in the lumber cupboard
which she had discovered on the day she had explored the roof. They
were not likely to be disturbed here, for probably no one save herself
knew of the existence of the tiny room. She crept through the small
door on to the tiles, and verified her position by cautious tapping,
to which Morvyth, stationed in t