er
with me, and then it won't seem so far to walk home. And you can throw
Madame Buck's rinds at the back of the fire. You'll like that; and so
will she."

Alf, now perfectly docile, and even thrilled with pleasure at the idea
of being with her for a little while longer, followed Emmy into the
passage, where the flickering gas showed too feeble a light to be of any
service to them. Between the two walls they felt their way into the
house, and Alf softly closed the door.

"Hang your hat and coat on the stand," whispered Emmy, and went
tiptoeing forward to the kitchen. It was in darkness. "Oo, she is a
monkey! She's let the fire out," Emmy continued, in the same whisper.
"Have you got a match? The gas is out." She opened the kitchen door
wide, and stood there taking off her hat, while Alf fumbled his way
along the passage. "Be quick," she said.

Alf pretended not to be able to find the matches, so that he might give
her a hearty kiss in the darkness. He was laughing to himself because he
had only succeeded, in his random venture, in kissing her chin; and
then, when she broke away with a smothered protest and a half laugh, he
put his hand in his pocket again for the match-box. The first match
fizzed along the box as it was struck, and immediately went out.

"Oh, _do_ hurry up!" cried Emmy in a whisper, thinking he was still
sporting with her. "Don't keep on larking about, Alf!"

"I'm not!" indignantly answered the delinquent. "It wouldn't strike.
Half a tick!"

He moved forward in the darkness, to be nearer the gas; and as he took
the step his foot caught against something upon the floor. He exclaimed.

"Now what is it?" demanded Emmy. For answer Alf struck his match, and
they both looked at the floor by Alf's feet. Emmy gave a startled cry
and dropped to her knees.

"Hul-lo!" said Alf; and with his lighted match raised he moved to the
gas, stepping, as he did so, over the body of Pa Blanchard, which was
lying at full length across the kitchen floor.

CHAPTER XII: CONSEQUENCES

i

In the succeeding quietness, Emmy fumbled at the old man's hands; then
quickly at his breast, near the heart. Trembling violently, she looked
up at Alf, as if beseeching his aid. He too knelt, and Emmy took Pa's
lolling head into her lap, as though by her caress she thought to
restore colour and life to the features. The two discoverers did not
speak nor reason: they were wholly occupied with the moment's horror. At
last Al