One windy night in April, some five-and-twenty years ago, the young moon, peeping now and then between the scudding wisps of cloud, seemed to be maintaining a careful watch upon a little incident which was taking place outside the windows of Moseley’s school--a large brick building standing in a walled enclosure. Save for the roaring of the wind in the elm-trees, no sound was to be heard until, presently, the clock in the old church-tower struck eleven. As if the striking of the hour had been a signal, a boy suddenly appeared, stepping softly from the shadow of the enclosure wall. Picking up a small pebble, he cast it up at one of the windows. The window opened immediately and a second boy …
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