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Will tried not to make any noise that might awaken anyone as they climbed the stairs and passed door after door until they reached one that was slightly ajar. Crouching, he tiptoed in after Sarah, careful to keep low. A lamp burned in the corner, its wick trimmed so the flame was barely alive, but it cast enough light for someone outside in the dark to see in. He stayed to one side of the window until he could peep around the curtain’s edge.
“Is he still there?” whispered the child.
Will peered out into the darkness, but saw nothing. “Where was he?”
“To the left of the light.”
He made out the vague shape of a man standing where she’d said, just outside the circle of light cast by the street lamp. “How long has he been there?”
“He was there when I got up to see if there were any stars out.”
“How long ago was that?”
“I don’t know.”
Casting about, he spied a clock on the mantel. It was only a little past two in the morning. Peering out again, he saw the shape move. There was no way to tell if the person out there was watching the school or not. Regardless, if the fellow stayed too long, one of the watchmen would run him off.
“Mr. Woodson?” said a muzzy voice from behind. “What are you doing up here?”
Turning, he glanced over his shoulder to see another little girl had joined them.
“I brought him to look at the man standing outside,” said Sarah, saving him from having to reply.
The other girl disappeared, but not for long. A moment later, there was a soft stampede of bare feet in the hall, and then there were little girls all around him, trying to look through the window.
“What man?”
“Where?”
“Move over!”
“I want to see…”
Damn. When Will looked out again, the shadow had shifted and was now barely distinguishable from the surrounding darkness. This was pointless. Standing, he faced the girls. “It’s probably just a wanderer taking shelter,” he said, trying to calm them. “It’s very early, now. You should all go back to sleep.”
“What is the meaning of this?” snapped a familiar—and very angry—voice.
Turning, he saw Jacqueline framed by the doorway, a candle in one hand and the other clutching the halves of a wrapper closed. Her long, dark hair hung unbound about her shoulders, making her wide hazel eyes appear even larger in her delicate face.
His mouth went dry.
“Monsieur, I asked you a question.” The light in her hand wavered, betraying a nervous tremor.
“He came with Sarah,” volunteered one of the girls. “There was a man outside—I saw him.”
Jacqueline’s gaze flew to the window, and she strode over to sweep aside the curtains and peer out into the night. Will looked with her just in time to see the shadowy figure vanish into the deeper darkness.
When she turned, her face was no less fearful or wroth, but her fear and anger were, thankfully, no longer directed toward him. “You saw it?”
He nodded. “It was too dark to make out much, but yes.” He laid a hand atop Sarah’s head. “Sarah saw him first and came down to fetch Mrs. Sloane. I came instead.”
“You ought to have come directly to me,” admonished Jacqueline, though her voice was gentle as she addressed the girl.
Sarah squirmed. “I did not want to wake you—you had only just gone to bed. I saw your light go out under your door as I was going to the common room to find a story.”
Jacqueline’s lips thinned, and she flicked a glance at him. “Sarah is our resident owl,” she murmured.
Nodding understanding, he bent on one knee before the little girl. “Sarah, did you notice anything special about the man or anything odd about the way he behaved? Did he move about or stay in one place? Was he alone the entire time?”
