Bessie stopped.

"That's the place, I'm pretty sure," she said. "I can tell for certain,
if we turn in, but I'm sure I didn't pass another house."

So they went in, and a minute's examination enabled Bessie to recognize
the grounds. She had had plenty of time to study them earlier in the
night, when she had crouched behind the rose bushes, expecting to be
discovered and dragged out every time one of the searchers passed near
her.

"I wish I knew about Trenwith," said Charlie, anxiously. "That is one
part of this night's work that puzzles me. I don't understand it at all,
and it worries me."

"He went off with Mr. Holmes after we got inside the house," said
Bessie. "But I didn't see him again after that. He wasn't with Mr.
Holmes in the big hall again, after I had got away. I'm sure of that."

"What are you going to do now?" asked Bessie.

"I'm not certain. I'd like very much to know where the other girls are.
We ought to be all together."

"Perhaps I can find out," said Bessie. "You stay here, and I'll slip
along toward the house. If Dolly's awake, I can find out where she is."

"All right. But if you see anyone else, or if anyone interferes with
you, call me right away."

Bessie promised that she would, and then she slipped away, and a moment
later found herself in front of the house.

"I'll try this side last," she said to herself. "I don't believe they'd
put them in front--more likely they'd put them on the east side, because
that only looks out over the garden, and there'd be less chance of their
seeing anyone who was coming."

So, moving stealthily and as silently as a cat, she went around to that
side of the house, and a moment later the strange, mournful call of a
whip-poor-will sounded in the still night air. It was repeated two or
three times, but there was no answer. Then Bessie changed her calling
slightly.

At first she had imitated the bird perfectly. But this time there was a
false note in the call--just the slightest degree off the true pitch of
the bird's note. Most people would not have known the difference, but to
a trained ear that slight imperfection would be enough to reveal the
fact that it was a human throat that was responsible, and not a bird's.
And the trick served its turn, for there was an instant answer. A window
was opened above Bessie, very gently, and she saw Dolly's head peering
down over the ivy that grew up the wall.

"Wait there!" she whispered. "Get dressed, all three