THE FIRST WATCH 227 



has been noticeable that the thief is an expert at 

 selecting only those flowers and vegetables that 

 have reached saleable perfection and that his 

 hands slip nimbly over the peas, leaving all 

 thin, undeveloped pods to increase in size during 

 the days and nights that he is absent from the 

 garden. 



Hurriedly I run down the grass walk, firmly 

 gripping an electric-light lantern in one hand, and 

 a stout blackthorn in the other, knowing that my 

 dark cloak and noiselessly gliding footgear should 

 not betray me, but when I reach my objective, 

 the flame has diminished and only rises again with 

 an occasional, abrupt, spasmodic jerk, accom- 

 panied by a crackle. 



My friend, meanwhile, has been shown by a 

 maid where to find me, and as they both emerge 

 from behind the Lombardy poplars I hear a whis- 

 per : " Hush ! did you hear that rustle ? " and 

 a reply, " No, it was only the wind in the leaves." 

 When we meet, it is difficult to recognise each 

 other, for moonlight plays such strange pranks 

 and makes people grow much taller : only by peer- 

 ing into one another's faces can familiar features 

 be discovered. We hold a war consultation and 

 decide to stand near some dark, thick bush, well 

 away from the smouldering bonfire, where, too, 

 the light of the moon does not fall direct upon a 

 white chalky object like the cart track and thus 

 betray one. For some time the silence is almost 

 overpowering ; we can hear each other breathe 

 and no other sound interrupts the watch. Then, 

 from beyond a nut grove and bank of earth over- 



