beneath it, and started again, so to speak, from the foundations. Bundle had not brought her maid with her, and she had packed herself.
Otherwise, the puzzled Frenchwoman might have wondered why her lady took a pair of riding breeches and no further equine equipment.
Arrayed in riding breeches, rubber-soled shoes, and a dark-coloured pullover, Bundle was ready for the fray. She glanced at the time. As yet, it was only half past twelve. Too early by far. Whatever was going to happen would not happen for some time yet. The occupants of the house must all be given time to get off to sleep. Half past one was the time fixed by Bundle for the start of operations.
She switched off her light and sat down by the window to wait. Punctually at the appointed moment, she rose, pushed up the sash and swung her leg over the sill. The night was a fine one, cold and still. There was starlight but no moon.
She found the descent very easy. Bundle and her two sisters had run wild in the park at Chimneys as small children, and they could all climb like cats. Bundle arrived on a flowerbed, rather breathless, but quite unscathed.
She paused a minute to take stock of her plans. She knew that the rooms occupied by the Air Minister and his secretary were in the west wing, that was the opposite side of the house from where Bundle was now standing.
A terrace ran along the south and west side of the house, ending abruptly against a walled fruit garden.
Bundle stepped out of her flowerbed and turned the corner of the house to where the terrace began on the south side. She crept very quietly along it, keeping close to the shadow of the house. But, as she reached the