should we not come?" Mrs. Armstrong asked, with her cheerful,
ever-ready laugh; "don't other people come here still?"

"Oh yes, but----"

"Then why not we? The more the better, say I! Surely we cannot _all_
be arrested and sent away!"

CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE RAID ON HARMONY

It was the peacefullest, decentest raid I ever heard of, and it would
be difficult to think of anything with a termination more tame and
commonplace.

But we have not got there yet.

The events which led up to it must be got over first as briefly as
possible, and then we go on to what was called a formal declaration of
war between the inmates of the Military Camp and the two principal
actors at Harmony.

After the van Warmelos had discovered on December 20th, through the
enemy's rank stupidity, that they had been found out, a regular game
of hide-and-seek began to be played in and around their beautiful
garden.

The curious thing about this game was that it was only carried on
under cover of darkness and intense silence, a silence which could
almost be felt, and which became so uncanny as time went on that the
women found it quite insupportable and had no peace by night or by day
until the day on which, a month later, the enemy took the initiative
and made what may be called an attack in front. There was only one
noisy actor in the game, which was played for four solid weeks before
the crash came, and as many after, and that was Carlo, but, although
his feelings found relief in constant growlings and furious barkings,
I do believe even his nerves suffered under the constant strain, for
he became more and more irritable and restless as time went on.

That dog gave a lot of trouble in those days and was a source of great
anxiety, as my reader will see presently.

The fruit season was at its height. The garden, heavily laden with the
burden of luscious fruits and blooming flowers, was a scene of beauty
and riotous luxury impossible to describe; and as the different fruit
trees bloomed and bore their rich harvest in rapid succession, each
after its kind--apricots, figs, pears, plums, apples, peaches, and,
last but not least, the noble vine with its great bunches of purple
and white--Hansie and her mother revelled in the wealth of Nature's
extravagance from morn till eve.

Mrs. van Warmelo, an energetic and tireless gardener, spent all her
time amongst the fruit, while indoors the task of putting up in jars
for winter use fell main