o the front door. It was deeply in shadow, but she did not need sight
to find the latch string, which she had played with as a child, and in
another instant she stood in the great dark room. It was deserted all
the household being asleep, and never dreaming that she also was not
safely in bed. The fire had been covered as it always was at night, but
it blazed when she stirred it, and by the light of the flame she found a
candle on the tall mantelpiece. Holding this to the blaze, it seemed to
her as if it would never catch the flame. When the wick caught she went
running up the stairs with the lighted candle in her hand, arousing the
sleeping household by repeated calls. She did not pause to answer the
alarmed cries that came in response. She heard a scream from Miss
Penelope's room, with, muffled sounds from the widow Broadnax's, and
the disapproving tones of William Pressley's voice. But she was utterly
heedless of everything, except the necessity of getting the room ready
in time, so that there should be no waiting before doing what might be
done. She quivered with terror to think how long the delay had been
already. The servants were too far away to be summoned quickly, so that
there was only herself to do what must be done, and she set about it in
desperate haste. Hers was the only chamber that could be given him.
Every room in Cedar House was occupied, and it was always her room which
was given to a guest, so that she often slept on a couch in Miss
Penelope's chamber. But she did not think of that; there was no thought
of herself, beyond wishing to give him her own room. Had there been ever
so many guest chambers, she would still have wished him to have hers.
But to get it ready in time! To make sure that there should be no
further waiting before doing all that human power could do. Even now it
might be too late. The wood fire had almost burned out, and to kindle a
blaze was the first thing to be done, so that she ran straight to the
hearth and dropped on her knees beside it. There was a little heap of
sticks in the chimney-corner, but her hands trembled so that she could
hardly put them on the dying coals. The breath that she coaxed the flame
with came in gasps, but a blaze quickly sprang up and leapt among the
sticks, and then she flew to prepare the bed. If she might only get it
ready before they came! The thought of that helpless head lying against
Father Orin's shoulder was like a stab at her heart.

Footsteps