, and descended the
stairs again. At the pantry door I paused. I was not afraid--not one
little bit. In fact the notion that anything might be wrong had never
crossed my mind. But I remember thinking, with my hand on the door,
that if Mrs. Carkeek were in the pantry I might happen to give her a
severe fright.

"I pushed the door open briskly. Mrs. Carkeek was not there.
But something _was_ there, by the porcelain basin--something which might
have sent me scurrying upstairs two steps at a time, but which as a
matter of fact held me to the spot. My heart seemed to stand still--so
still! And in the stillness I remember setting down the brass
candlestick on a tall nest of drawers beside me.

"Over the porcelain basin and beneath the water trickling from the tap I
saw two hands.

"That was all--two small hands, a child's hands. I cannot tell you how
they ended.

"No: they were not cut off. I saw them quite distinctly: just a pair of
small hands and the wrists, and after that--nothing. They were moving
briskly--washing themselves clean. I saw the water trickle and splash
over them--not _through_ them--but just as it would on real hands.
They were the hands of a little girl, too. Oh, yes, I was sure of that
at once. Boys and girls wash their hands differently. I can't just
tell you what the difference is, but it's unmistakable.

"I saw all this before my candle slipped and fell with a crash. I had
set it down without looking--for my eyes were fixed on the basin--and
had balanced it on the edge of the nest of drawers. After the crash, in
the darkness there, with the water running, I suffered some bad moments.
Oddly enough, the thought uppermost with me was that I _must_ shut off
that tap before escaping. I _had_ to. And after a while I picked up
all my courage, so to say, between my teeth, and with a little sob
thrust out my hand and did it. Then I fled.

"The dawn was close upon me: and as soon as the sky reddened I took my
bath, dressed and went downstairs. And there at the pantry door I found
Mrs. Carkeek, also dressed, with my candlestick in her hand.

"'Ah!' said I, 'you picked it up.'

"Our eyes met. Clearly Mrs. Carkeek wished me to begin, and I
determined at once to have it out with her.

"'And you knew all about it. That's what accounts for your plugging up
the cistern.'

"'You saw? . . .' she began.

"'Yes, yes. And you must tell me all about it--never mind how bad.
Is--is it--mu