The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1879-05-10

ing and humping to which my heart beat
an echo: and then 4 hurrying and scurrv-
ing and scratching that told me the rats
were stealing the potatoes in the cellar.
| breathed more freely: it was actually
something agreeable to feel even the
rats alive in the neighborhood. as long as
| they did not forsake the cellar for any
other place. Cats then; the rattle of
window sashes; SCOT falling down the
chimney; the starting of some timber OF
| some spike-all the noises without source
! that one hears at night, as if they were
part of the stirring of the springs in the
earth. came along after that in slow sue
ceSsion. and the clock struck one.
was wretchedly sleepy now Even
sitting bolt upright in my chair and pal
pitating with fear. it was all | could do
| to keep awake. when suddenly | started
as if there had never been such thing
as sleep in the world. There it was-a
stealthv muiiied movement at the cellar
grating at the front of the old house, Il
lifting of the iron, Il rafting of the glass,
a leap fall. 4 smothered cursc-therc
was somebody in the cellar. NV heart
| stood still: my voice was utterly gone: if
my life had depended on it. could not
| have spoken. Death and destruction. in
the shape of that burglar, were stealing
nearer every minute. | was sure that
there was an accomplice in the house. i'll
my room. expected he would presently
pounce on me and pinion me. | half rose
to escape through one of the front win
dows. but remembered that | had nailed
them down-and if that were not so. |
| | could not have left the chair into which
| fell back. 1t seemed to me heard the
| low regular breathing Of the accomplice;
and then. all at one. | was sure | heard
something very different. something that
set the blood bubbling in my veins as
music never did bcfore-the subdued
whstling of Il familiar strain beneath
my feet. and | recognized that it was
| Tom. the scullion. who had been bclated,
and was now keeping his courage alive.
| But before | could speak to Tom he had
crept up the stairs and was beyond my
reach; and was too proud. after all. to
seek any one in the house and let the tor
ture was suffering be known.
All was still again. The distant clock
struck two. Blu in the silence itself it
seemed to me | heard that breath 90 on.
as one hears sound in the hollow of
ones hand. | was absolutely sure of it.
had that vague sense of the presence of
somebody in the room which everybody
has known. | remembered a story had
once read of a person waking to find
mailman in the room, and hearing his
fingers feel along the wall paper, the
sound drawing nearer. 1t grew so real
to me, as | dwelt on it with this sense
that troubled me, that | felt | must
scream or die, and | couldn't have
screamed if had died
suppose that | must have fallen asleep
in my chair in spite of myself then; |
hardly could have tainted. | think. for
when | awoke with start it was strik-
| ing three: and the gas, although | had
| turned it down, was burning more bright
| ly. perhaps because turned off nearly
| every where else in town. lnvoluntarily
| turned my head. and there at one of the
| long back windows stood a great shadow.
| the thing that had awakened me, a great
| black outline, huge man. 4 negro, look
| ing in on me- Whether it was house
| breaker. who, seeing me, decided that
was sitting up for my husband, and he
| would be too soon interrupted to make
| his venture. or whether it was one of the
colored policemen who had come to warn
us that the alley door. with all its cracks.
was fastened only by a chip. never knew;
| for. this time, tainted in reality, and the
whole world slipped away from me into
| dead blackncss.
When | came to myself. as the saying
is. was lying back among the cushions
| of the armchair and as my eyes opened
on that dreadful window | saw that it
was vacant. and nothing had been dis
| turbed. sat up for a moment. feeling
deathly sick. 1t was of no use to strug-
gle, | saw: let the worst happen, | must
| 90 to bed. | turned the gas down still
| hnS
| got my night dress from the wardrobe
where it hung. and pinned inside it all
the money that Reuben had left me, be-
ing in too great a hurry himself to go to
the bank and deposit it. That money
made one of the Qualifications | gave my
self in eXcusing my fears: the fact Of my
| holding so many hundred dollars in my
possession might be known to others
very likely was.
Being thus made ready, sought the
newspaper pile, and | took out the 7ri-
| bHaes and sans, on account of their greater
cracking powers, feeling for them rather
| than seeing them in the dimnesS. Then
| | carpeted the floor of the back room in
| every direction with the outspread sheets,
so that no step could be made on them
without waking me if fell asleep. which
| now it was very certain | should do
| That done. | unlocked my trunk. and
taking out all my ,jewelry and ornaments.
| | spread them on the tables as if Just
used in some extraordinary toilette my
watch and chain. my string of pearls and
diamond solitaires, my necklace of pink
| topaz and brilliants, and i'll fact all had
in the world, with my shawl and my one
| lace tlounce, spread them out in full sight,
that a thief, seeing them, might snatch
and run, and leave me alone and safe
with Reuben's money: my iewelry was
| all my own before married him. Then,
| tiptocing over the cracking TribuRes and
SINS. | got hold of the fire poker. the
| scissors. the sharp steel eraser, and the
open pcnknife, and slipping the poker
under the edge of the bedside. where |
could reach it for defense at any moment.
and the scissors under the pillow. and
with the keen steel things in either hand
| drew aside the curtains altogether from
| the alcovc, and putting in my hand to
pull off the skirts and things | had so
carelessly tossed there in my haste. |
| touched with my own, which was stone
cold. q large warm hand '.Ah, great
heavens! great heaycns.' I shrieked at
the top of my lungs, without staying to
think whether could scream or not
There is 4 man in the bedr'
Good gracious, Sally. what's the mat
ter? Do you mean to bring down the
house, came a sleepy voice. Just cot
homea What's the clocko Heigho.-
My train broke down, and we had to
come back. What-what in the deuce
does this mean? What are those knives
in your hands for' Do you mean to muir
der ne? Have You lost your wits -
And shaking Off a spray Of skirts and
things that he had never noticed there
when he retired. Reuben sat up and stared
at me. And he declares that. more than
once in the gray dawn, half woke and
cried out sobbingly, although in his pro-
tecting arms. "Oh, Reuben, Reuben,