Then, as surmise grew to certainty, a little laugh bubbled within her.

She stepped to the window.
"Good night, Uncle Copas!" she called out mischievously.
No one answered from the moonlit cabbage-plot.

In fact, Brother Copas, beating his retreat, at that moment struck his staff against a disused watering-can, and missed to hear her.
He objurgated his clumsiness and went on, picking his way more cautiously.
"The question is," he murmured, "how I'm to extort confession from Bonaday to-morrow without letting him suspect.

.

." While he pondered this, Brother Copas stumbled straight upon another shock.