read eagerly, though fitfully, her interest in all such matters varying
greatly with her mood and condition. Her day-dreaming was to a large
extent directed toward matters literary and artistic. Sometimes, when
she had read some novel with a markedly sentimental appeal, she talked
vaguely of old ambitions to write, but as a rule it was her ignorance of
music that she deplored. In the meantime her lace-making and her
embroidery proved an artistic sense not wholly confined to dreams. She
was always busy with some work of that kind, but her longings went far
beyond it, and it happened more than once that she let her work drop in
her lap while she looked at Keith with an expression he could not
understand.

"If only I had had your chance in life," she exclaimed on one occasion
of that kind.

"What do you mean," asked the boy, snuggling close to her.

"I mean that you will study and be able to do things," she answered,
bending down to kiss him.

At that very moment the father entered and heard what she said.

"Nonsense," he broke in. "The boy is going to learn a trade, and I think
we'll ask Uncle Granstedt to make a carpenter of him."

To Keith it was all meaningless, and his mother said nothing at the
time, but a slight stiffening of her face warned him that his father's
remark pointed in a direction not held desirable by her. And from that
sign the boy took his cue.

XIV

The outside door stood open and no one was in the kitchen but Granny.
The temptation to explore was irresistible.

"When the cat's away, the rats dance on the tray," the old grandmother
muttered as if to herself.

"I'll just have a peep," Keith explained, turning to her for a moment.
Then he made for the open door again.

The landing with its bare stone floor was familiar to him and quite
barren of interest. What drew him magnetically was the tall archway
leading to the mysterious upper regions known as the garret, where
strange old women lived in hermit cells, and whence disturbing noises
issued day and night. Even as he looked up there, he could hear a
spookish grating that seemed to symbolize the spirit of the place. He
shuddered a little, but not unpleasantly, for he knew what caused it.

In the brick wall ending the upward vista, he could see a square open
hole with an iron shutter held open at right angles by an iron rod. As
the wind shook the shutter, the rod scraped against the socket that held
its hooked end. That was all--but