CHAPTER XVIII.
That night when Hannah was ready to go to bed, the house-cat was nowhere to be found. She didn’t like to go to bed and lock her out, for she feared she might come home during the night and make a disturbance; and, moreover, she didn’t fancy the thought of getting up after she had gone to bed, to let her in.
Hannah went to the door and called, but there was no answer; and after going about the garden, calling “Puss, puss,” her patience gave out and she went back to the kitchen. “Stay out, then, if you want to; you won’t catch me getting up to let you in, if you yawl all night,” she said, as she shut and bolted the door.
The house-kittens might have given her some information on the subject, if she could have understood their language,—for their mother had told them, early in the evening, not to be alarmed if she were out all night, as she had very important business to attend to; but Hannah only thought they were mewing for their mother, when they tried to make her understand. So Hannah went up to bed, where Nancy was already sound asleep in her little cot-bed and happily unconscious of the deep plot laid for her by the evil-minded old rat.
“You look innocent enough,” said Hannah, as her eyes fell on the sleeping child, who was smiling in her sleep at some pleasant dream; “but I don’t trust you,—appearances are too suspicious.”
Soon Hannah too was fast asleep, and the house silent.
Then, when everything was quiet, old Graywhisker, with Hannah’s silver thimble in his mouth, came softly out of his hole and looked cautiously around to see if the barn-cat were in sight. Not a sound was to be heard, and he crept slyly along till he came to a hole in the corner of the barn farthest from the barn-cat’s nest; for he didn’t dare trust the private entrance any more, and had made this new exit with the help of some of the younger rats.
When he found himself out of doors he looked anxiously about. Yes, there was Mrs. Silverskin, just where she had agreed to be; and he went towards her.
“Here is the thimble, and mind you don’t lose it!” he said, as he dropped it noiselessly on the ground in front of the little mouse. “Be sure you put it among Nancy’s things, where Hannah will be likely to see it.”
“I will do my best,” said Mrs. Silverskin softly.
“You are quite sure you understand the way through the shed?” asked Graywhisker.
“Quite sure,” answered the little mouse; “I don’t see how I could possibly miss it.”
“Well, then, all is quiet now, and the sooner you are off the better.”
Mrs. Silverskin took up the thimble and started on her expedition, and the old rat returned to his hole to await her return.
When the little mouse came to the shed-door, she stopped and looked cautiously around. Not a sound was to be heard, and she crept through a little hole under the door and entered the shed. Everything was very still,—not even a mouse was stirring besides herself,—and she soon came to the stairs that led to the loft above.
A ray of moonlight fell across the stairs, and little Mrs. Silverskin stopped a minute to rest and laid the silver thimble down. It shone very prettily in the moonlight, and she looked at it longingly.
“How my children would like it for a plaything!” she said to herself; “it seems a shame they can’t have it. It is too bad to make them think that poor child is a thief. She has a very good heart. I heard them say she used to save crumbs for the mice when she didn’t have enough to eat herself. Posy, too,—she is such a dear child, I hate to make her so unhappy. I believe I will keep it for my babies, and make old Graywhisker think I put it in Nancy’s room. But then if he should ever find out the truth it would be the end of me; and he’d be sure to find it out, for he knows everything. The barn-cat came near getting him the other day,—I’m sure I wish she had. Dear me! what was that noise?”
Little Mrs. Silverskin trembled like a leaf; but all was still again, and she concluded it was only something that fell down in the loft above. So, when she was quite sure everything was quiet again, she took up the thimble and went on very cautiously.
She reached the head of the stairs and found herself in the loft, and over there in the corner was the hole just as her friend had described it to her. “If I wasn’t sure the house-cat was locked up in the kitchen, I should think she was somewhere about,” said little Mrs. Silverskin to herself, “for I feel cold shivers down my spine just as I always do when she or the barn-cat is about; but I’m only nervous, I guess.”
So the little mouse went on her way, and had nearly reached the hole, when suddenly from behind a barrel darted the house-cat, her large yellow eyes glaring fiercely in the moonlight.
The poor little mouse gave a squeak of terror, and dropping the silver thimble ran swiftly for her life, closely followed by the house-cat. One pause or misstep and all would have been over with Mrs. Silverskin; and thinking of her babies at home who were waiting for her, she ran as she never ran before, dreading every moment to feel the house-cat’s cruel claws; but she reached the hole under the shed-door in safety, and had just time to whisk her tail in after her when the house-cat’s claws were at the entrance.
How her little heart did beat when she reached the barn; and how much faster still it beat when she remembered that she had left Hannah’s silver thimble behind, and must give an account of herself to old Graywhisker! Yes, there was the old rat peering out of his hole, and she couldn’t pass without his seeing her. His sharp old eyes soon spied her out, and he called to her to stop.
“Well,” he said, eying her sharply as she stood trembling before him, “how did you get along? Come, don’t keep me waiting here all night!”
“I got along very well,” said the little mouse, “until I reached the loft, and I was almost up to the hole in the corner when all at once out sprang the house-cat and I had to run for dear life. I never had such a narrow escape in my life.”
“And the thimble!” exclaimed the old rat in a fierce tone; “where is the thimble?”
“I dropped it in my fright,” said the little mouse in a shaking voice. “I couldn’t run with it in my mouth; the house-cat would surely have caught me if I had.”
“What!” squeaked the old rat. “You lost the thimble, did you?” and he sprang so suddenly at the poor little mouse that she gave a loud squeal of terror,—so loud that the barn-cat awoke from one of her light cat-naps and quickly started up. As she appeared, both Graywhisker and Mrs. Silverskin ran.
“I believe I’m more afraid of Graywhisker than I am even of the barn-cat,” said the little mouse to herself, as she reached her hole above the mow in safety. “Dear me, what a fearful night this has been! To be almost caught by the house-cat, pounced on by Graywhisker, and then chased by the barn-cat! Graywhisker is certainly the worst of the three! What will he do to me for losing the thimble? I shan’t dare to stir out of my house till the affair has blown over.”
The next morning the house-kittens were busily playing.
“What has got into those kittens? They act as if they were crazy,” said Hannah, when she had nearly fallen over them for the fifth time before breakfast. “Here, you run out of doors and play there,” she continued, driving them out; “I don’t care to break my neck just yet!” So out the kittens went, and the same performance was gone through with there.
“What can those kittens have to play with, do you suppose?” said Nancy, as the children came in from the garden to breakfast; “they are rolling something that shines;” and they ran up to examine it more closely.
“It is Hannah’s silver thimble, I do believe!” exclaimed Tom, as he picked up the shining plaything.
“Oh, I’m so glad!” cried Nancy joyfully; “now she won’t think I stole it.”
“I shall show it to her right off this very minute,” said Posy, snatching the thimble out of Tom’s hand and running into the kitchen with it in a very earnest manner.
“Hannah,” she said, holding up the thimble, “here is your silver thimble,—the house-kittens had it to play with, and Nancy didn’t steal it, there now!”
Hannah put the thimble in her pocket without a word; but this didn’t satisfy Posy, who liked to see justice done, and always felt distressed if people were not harmonious in their relations to each other.
“Now you know her isn’t a thief, don’t you, Hannah?” said Posy in her most winning tones.
“I suppose she didn’t take the thimble,” replied Hannah; “but the necklace and the cat’s collar haven’t turned up yet.”
“Hannah!” cried Posy indignantly, “I think you are a very mean girl, and I shan’t ever come and help you cook any more!”
“Oh, do!” said Hannah, trying to look very serious; “however shall I get along with my cooking if you don’t help me?”
“No,” replied Posy decidedly, “I shan’t ever help you make cookies or anything else; see if I do!”
Mrs. Silverskin drops the thimble.—Page [232.]