gging, when we were startled by a faint noise at the kitchen
door. A stealthy sound, as of human feet moving slowly and cautiously
along; a timid hand laid softly on the handle of the door; and then a
whispering murmur of voices. We pricked up our ears and stopped eating.

"I am sure that the noise came from the kitchen;-- listen!" said a
timorous voice. So those without listened, and so did we within, when
the clock suddenly striking One, made us all start, and so frightened
the Brownies, that off they scampered into their hole. Whiskerandos and
I retreated some steps, and then remained in an attitude of attention,
while again the whispering began.

"Would it not be safer to call in a policeman?"

"No, no,-- my blunderbuss is loaded, and the villains cannot escape.
You are nervous-- go back, Eliza."

"Dearest-- I'll never leave you to meet the danger alone!"

The handle creaked as it was slowly turned round, and Whiskerandos
exclaiming, "We'd better be off!" followed the example of the Brownies.
Strong curiosity made me linger for a moment, as the door was opened
inch by inch, and I had a glimpse of what to this day I cannot remember
without laughing. One of the lords of the creation slowly advanced
through it, robed in a long red dressing-gown, a candle in one hand,
a loaded blunderbuss in the other, and with a most ludicrous expression
on his pallid face, as though he were making up his mind to kill
somebody, but was a little afraid that somebody might kill him instead!
His wife, looking ghastly in her curl-papers with her eyes and mouth
wide open in fright, was trying to pull him back, and was evidently
terrified to glance round the kitchen, lest some midnight robber should
meet her gaze. Away I scudded, my sides shaking with mirth, leaving the
broken jar and the scattered fruits to tell their own tale, and
wondering with what stories of midnight alarms the valiant husband and
his devoted spouse would amuse their family in the morning.

CHAPTER X.

THE WANT OF A DENTIST.

I was glad to see Oddity's kind ugly face again in our native shed. How
much I had to tell him! how much older I now felt than one who had never
wandered a hundred yards from his home! Who knows not the pleasure of
returning even after a brief absence, full of information, eager to
impart it, and sure of a ready and attentive listener? I talked over my
adventures to my brother, till any patience but his would have been
exhausted; b