Part 8 (2/2)
The key was turned noiselessly in the lock; he raised the latch, and the door swung open with never a creak.
The moonlight flooded that portion of the kitchen where he stood irresolute, as if even now believing it might be better to confess why he had been forced to come away from New York; and as he turned his head ever so slightly to listen, a sudden fear came upon him.
He saw, not more than half a dozen paces distant, a human form advancing. A cry of fear burst from his lips, and he would have leaped out of the open door but that a gentle pressure on his shoulder restrained him.
”Where are you going, my child?” a kindly voice asked; and he knew that what he had mistaken for an apparition was none other than Aunt Hannah.
Seth could not speak; his mouth had suddenly become parched, and his knees trembled beneath him. He had been discovered while seemingly prowling around the house like a thief, and on the instant he realized in what way his actions might be misconstrued.
”Where are you going, Seth dear?”
”I wasn't--I had to run away, Aunt Hannah, an' that's the truth of it!” he cried pa.s.sionately, suddenly recovering the use of his tongue.
”Why didn't you tell me at supper-time?”
”I was afraid you and Gladys would try to stop me, an' perhaps I couldn't stick to what I'd agreed on.”
”Do you really want to leave us, Seth?”
”Indeed I don't, Aunt Hannah! I'd give anything in this world if I could stay, for this is the very nicest place I ever was in. Oh, indeed, I don't want to go away!”
”Then why not stay?”
”I can't! I can't, 'cause I'd have to tell----”
Seth did not finish the sentence, but buried his face in Snip's silky hair.
”Is it because you can't tell me why you left the city?” And the little woman laid her hand on the boy's shoulder with a motion not unlike a caress.
Seth nodded, but did not trust himself to speak.
”Then go right back to bed. You shall stay here, my dear, until the time comes when you can confide in me, and meanwhile I will not believe you have been guilty of any wickedness.”
CHAPTER V.
AN ACCIDENT.
FILLED with shame and confusion, Seth made no resistance when Aunt Hannah ordered him back to bed; but obeyed silently, moving stealthily as when he began the flight. He was trembling as with a sudden chill when he undressed and laid himself down, while Snip lost no time in curling his tiny body into a good imitation of a ball, wondering, perhaps, why he had thus been needlessly disturbed in his ”beauty sleep.”
Seth was no longer capable of speculating upon the problem in which he had been involved through a lead nickel and an advertis.e.m.e.nt in the newspapers. He could only realize that Aunt Hannah had good reason to believe him a thief, or worse, otherwise she would not have been waiting to discover if he attempted to prowl around the house while she was supposed to be asleep, and his cheeks burned with shame at the thought.
He wished that the night might never come to an end, and then he would not be forced to meet her face to face, as he must when the sun rose.
”Of course she'll tell Gladys where she found me, an' both of 'em will believe I'm the worst feller that ever lived!” he whispered to himself; and then tears, bitter and scalding, flowed down his cheeks, moistening the spotless linen, but bringing some slight degree of comfort, because sleep quickly followed in their train.
Seth was awakened next morning by Aunt Hannah's voice, as she called gently:
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