An excellent solution of the difficulty.
Mr Pickering turned to the left and began to advance circuitously,
with the result that, before he knew what he was doing, he came
out into a clearing and understood the meaning of the sudden
silence which had perplexed him. Footsteps made no sound on this
mossy turf.
He knew where he was now; the clearing was familiar. This was
where Lord Wetherby's shack-studio stood; and there it was, right
in front of him, black and clear in the moonlight. And the two
dark figures were going into it.
Mr Pickering retreated into the shelter of the bushes and mused
upon this thing. It seemed to him that for centuries he had been
doing nothing but retreat into bushes for this purpose. His
perplexity had returned. He could imagine no reason why burglars
should want to visit Lord Wetherby's studio. He had taken it for
granted, when he had tracked them to the clearing, that they were
on their way to the house, which was quite close to the shack,
separated from it only by a thin belt of trees and a lawn.
They had certainly gone in. He had seen them with his own eyes--first
the man, then very close behind him, apparently holding to his coat,
the girl. But why?
Creep up and watch them? Would Chingachgook have taken a risk like
that? Hardly, unless insured with some good company.
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