he slammed open her blinds with
an emphasis, and lighted her lamp with a burnt match.

The men jumped, and dodged, and ran, and hid behind the trees, in the
most approved manner of burglars, who flee when no woman pursueth; and
Keturah, being of far too generous a disposition to enjoy the pleasure
of their capture unshared, lost no time in hammering at Amram's door.

"Amram!"

No answer.

"_Am_ram!"

Silence.

"Am-_ram!_"

"Oh! Ugh! Who--"

Silence again.

"Amram, wake up! Come out here--quick!"

"O-o-oh, yes. Who's there?"

"I."

"I?"

"Keturah."

"Kefurah?"

"Amram, be quick, or we shall all have our throats cut! There are some
men in the garden."

"Hey?"

"_Men_ in the garden!"

"Men?"

"In the _garden!_"

"Garden?"

Keturah can bear a great deal, but there comes a limit even to her
proverbial patience. She burst open the door without ceremony, and is
under the impression that Amram received a shaking such as even his
tender youth was a stranger to. It effectually woke him to
consciousness, as well as to the gasping and particularly senseless
remark, "What on earth was she wringing his neck for?" As if he mightn't
have known! She has the satisfaction of remembering that he was asked in
return, "Did he expect a solitary unprotected female to keep all his
murderers away from him, as well as those wolves she drove off the other
night?"

However, there was no time to be wasted in tender words, and before a
woman could have winked, Amram made his appearance dressed and armed and
sarcastically incredulous. Keturah grasped the pistol, and followed him
at a respectful distance. Stay in the house and hold the light? Catch
her! She would take the light with her, and the house too, if necessary,
but she would be in at the death.

She wishes Mr. Darley were on hand, to immortalize the picture they
made, scouring the premises after those disobliging burglars,--especially
Keturah, in the green wrapper, with her hair rolled all up in a huge knob
on top of her head, to keep it out of the way, and her pistol held out at
arm's-length, pointed falteringly, directly at the stars. She will inform
the reader confidentially--tell it not in Gath--of a humiliating discovery
she made exactly four weeks afterward, and which she has never before
imparted to a human creature,--it wasn't loaded.

Well, they peered behind every door, they glared into every shadow, they
squeezed into every crack, they dashed in