Clarence's surmises were correct; the iron grating was not only loose, but yielded to a vigorous wrench, the vine itself acting as a lever to pull out the rusty bars.
The young man held out his hand, but Mrs.Peyton, with the sudden agility of a young girl, leaped into the window, followed by Mary and Susy.

The inner casement yielded to her touch; the next moment they were within the room.

Then Mrs.Peyton's flushed and triumphant face reappeared at the window.
"It's all right; the men are all in the courtyard, or in the front of the house.

The boudoir door is strong, and we can bolt them out." "It won't be necessary," said Clarence quietly; "you will not be disturbed." "But are you not coming in ?" she asked timidly, holding the window open.
Clarence looked at her with his first faint smile since Peyton's death.
"Of course I am, but not in THAT way.

I am going in by THE FRONT GATE." She would have detained him, but, with a quick wave of his hand, he left her, and ran swiftly around the wall of the casa toward the front.