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Reasoning herself out of these fears, or losing sight of them for a little
while, there came the anxiety to which the adventures of the night
gave rise. Here was the old passion awakened again in her
grandfather's breast, and to what further distraction it might tempt
him Heaven only knew. What fears their absence might have
occasioned already! Persons might be seeking for them even then.
Would they be forgiven in the morning, or turned adrift again! Oh!
why had they stopped in that strange place? It would have been
better, under any circumstances, to have gone on!
At last, sleep gradually stole upon her - a broken, fitful sleep, troubled
by dreams of falling from high towers, and waking with a start and in
great terror. A deeper slumber followed this - and then - What! That
figure in the room.
A figure was there. Yes, she had drawn up the blind to admit the light
when it should be dawn, and there, between the foot of the bed and
the dark casement, it crouched and slunk along, groping its way with
noiseless hands, and stealing round the bed. She had no voice to cry
for help, no power to move, but lay still, watching it.
On it came - on, silently and stealthily, to the bed's head. The breath
so near her pillow, that she shrunk back into it, lest those wandering
hands should light upon her face. Back again it stole to the window -
then turned its head towards her.
The dark form was a mere blot upon the lighter darkness of the room,
but she saw the turning of the head, and felt and knew how the eyes
looked and the ears listened. There it remained, motionless as she. At
length, still keeping the face towards her, it busied its hands in
something, and she heard the chink of money.
Then, on it came again, silent and stealthy as before, and replacing
the garments it had taken from the bedside, dropped upon its hands
and knees, and crawled away. How slowly it seemed to move, now that
she could hear but not see it, creeping along the floor! It reached the
door at last, and stood upon its feet. The steps creaked beneath its
noiseless tread, and it was gone.
The first impulse of the child was to fly from the terror of being by
herself in that room - to have somebody by - not to be alone - and
then her power of speech would be restored. With no consciousness of
having moved, she gained the door.
There was the dreadful shadow, pausing at the bottom of the steps.
She could not pass it; she might have done so, perhaps, in the
darkness without being seized, but her blood curdled at the thought.
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