shan't have no candle, neither,' proceeded Clem, delighted
with the effect she was producing. 'Come along! I'm off to bed, an'
I'll see you safe locked in first, so as no one can come an' hurt you.'

'Miss! please!--I can't, I durstn't!'

Jane pleaded in inarticulate anguish. But Clem had caught her by the
arm, was dragging her on, on, till she was at the very door of that
ghastly death-cellar. Though thirteen years old, her slight frame was
as incapable of resisting Clem Peckover's muscles as an infant's would
have been. The door was open, but at that moment Jane uttered a shriek
which rang and echoed through the whole house. Startled, Clem relaxed
her grasp. Jane tore herself away, fled up the kitchen stairs, fled
upwards still, flung herself at the feet of someone who had come out on
to the landing and held a light.

'Oh, help me! Don't let her! Help me!'

'What's up with you, Jane?' asked Clara, for it was she who, not being
yet in bed, had come forth at once on hearing the scream.

Jane could only cling to her garment, pant hysterically, repeat the
same words of entreaty again and again. Another door opened, and John
Hewett appeared half-dressed.

'What's wrong?' he cried. 'The 'ouse o' fire? Who yelled out like that?'

Clem was coming up; she spoke from the landing below.

'It's that Jane, just because I gave her a rap as she deserved. Send
her down again.'

'Oh, no!' cried the poor girl. 'Miss Hewett! be a friend to me! She's
goin' to shut me up all night with the coffin. Don't let her, miss! I
durstn't! Oh, be a friend to me!'

'Little liar!' shouted Clem. 'Oh, that bloomin' little liar! when I
never said a word o' such a thing!'

'I'll believe her a good deal sooner than you,' returned Clara sharply.
'Why, anybody can see she's tellin' the truth--can't they, father?
She's half-scared out of her life. Come in here, Jane; you shall stay
here till morning.'

By this time all the grown-up people in the house were on the
staircase; the clang of tongues was terrific. Clem held her ground
stoutly, and in virulence was more than a match for all her opponents.
Even Bob did not venture to take her part; he grinned down over the
banisters, and enjoyed the entertainment immensely. Dick Snape, whose
room Bob shared, took the opportunity of paying off certain old scores
he had standing against Clem. Mr. Marple, the cab-driver, was very loud
and very hoarse in condemnation of such barbarity. Mrs. Hewett, looking