The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-10-16

| now? But no, father would not like her
going to the attic alone at night. She
must try and forget it and go to sleep.
But how much she would like to see
how the attic looks in the bright moon
light that shines into her room. To
creep in unawares on the dolls, and see
if they really are alive in the night, and
talk, and give parties, as Shadrach, the
stable man has told heri There can be
no harm in going. Every one is fast
asleep in the house, and she can't sleep.
How she hates to lie awake! The old
Dutch clock on the stairs struck mid
night.
Emily stepped gently out of bed, and
stole to the window. How sharply out
lined the shadows were, how bright the
moonlight. Every now and again great
| clouds coursing over the sky would hide
the moon, and then it would shine out
in renewed brilliancy and splendor. But
there was big bank of gray clouds un-
der which it would soon disappear, and
then it would be too dark to 60 to the
attic. Now or never, thought Emily,
as she slipped into her little dressing
gown, and thrust her bare feet into her
soft wool slippers.
To get to the attic she did not have to
go through the house, for it was stu
ated in the old manor building whose
gables abutted on the modern house,
and between which a bridge-passage
had been built, which opened directly
out of Emily's room by an outer door.
his door was called her private front
door, and was locked by big key and
bolts from within. The other end of
the bridge-psssage rested on the second
floor landing of the manor, from which
the attic was reached by long flight of
stairs.
This attic, the delight of Emily's
heart, where she kept ali her treasures,
and did all her bestowed work, was a
rambling garnet room, with great null
honed windows, each in gable of it's
own, that stood out from the old roof
Two of these big windows looked out to
the west, and on the south side, which
adjoined the modern house, was a
smaller window, apparently inserted
since the dismantling of the build
ing, for it contained only a rough
sash. The base of this little win
dow-it was some five feet in
height-was on the floor of the attic,
and nearly level with the projecting
cornice of the house: while between
the cornice and the window-sill was a
space of about yard. The old house
was quite deserted and disused, save as
Emily's play-room, and what had once
been the hall was now an accumulation
of rubbish, gardening tools, and out
door implements, or castaway pieces of
furniture, in fact a catch-all for all sorts,
and a heterogeneous collection it was.
The little girl turned the key in the lock
of her front door. 1t moved so silently
and easily, that she could not help Slip
ping back the bolts and cautiously open
ing the door. The thought of being
afraid never entered her head. She was
a very courageous child, and knew
nothing to be afraid of. She was think
ing only of rescuing her beloved knife
from possible rust; and there it lay, its
blade looking very blue in the moon
light, when she reached the attic. She
picked it up from beside the fishing-rod,
rubbing and polishing it on her sleeve
and shutting it, vowing never to be so
careless again. Then she looked around
the room. How strange every thing
looked; very black, or very bright, the
great mullions making huge stripes of
shadow over the floor. After feasting
her eyes at the big windows, she turned
to the little ones. Opposite her rose
the steep tiled roof. and at the top was
the observatory, its windows glistening
and shining just as though there were
a candle in the room. Emily turned to
go down to her bed again, for she was
beginning to be conscious that it was
cold, when she saw the window of the
observatory that was nearest to her
slowly open. She was spell-bound more
with establishment than fear, and stood
motionless to watch. The sash was
raised, and man cautiously got out. He
moved blunderingly and awkwardly, as
though he had his hands tied. Then
he began to descend the slanting roof
very slowly and warily. Leaning back
against the tiles, he lodged his feet and
elbows in their projections, advancing
inch by inch on his journey, with his
hands still before him. Suddenly the
moon, which had been partially hidden
by fleecy cloud, shone out bright and
strong, and the little girl had only time
to recognize the mans features, before
a bank of dark clouds hid it again. But
she had seen enough. The man was
Silas Cole, laborer ON the farm, who
had come to the house only few weeks
back, and although looking like a tramp,
no one in the country knowing any
thing about him, had been kindly re-
ceived by Mr.. Vane, and given work
and lodging. His fellow-laborers had
once or twice complained of his being
drunkard, but he had promised amend
ment, and had been kept on. Emily
saw it all now. What the man was
doing was clear enough. He had been
in the kitchen when her father had in
discreetly answered her indiscreet ques-
ton, and had resolved on possessing
himself of the money. He had con-
cealed himself in the garnet, passing
through Mr.. Vane's room before he
went to bed, and when all was still in
the house had mounted into the observ-
atory to rob his benefactor. He knew
the premises well enough to be aware
that if he could descend the roof, and
gain the little window, he could at once
reach the farmyard, and so make his
way off without going near the sleeping
community, or fear of rousing them.