"I live here," said Julia, stopping short, before a low, old house, in a close side street, breathless with the efforts she had made to escape her tormentor. "Do not go any farther, Grandpa never likes to see strangers."

"Go on—go on," answered Leicester, in a tone that was jeeringly good-natured; "grandpa will be delighted."

Julia ran desperately down the area steps. She longed to close the basement door after her and hold it against the intruder, but as this idea flashed across her mind, Leicester stood by her side in the dark hall. She ran forward and opened the door of that poor basement room which was her home. Still he kept by her side. The basement was full of that dusky gloom which a handful of embers had power to shed through the darkness; for the old people, whose outlines were faintly seen upon the hearth, were still too poor for a prodigal waste of light when no work was to be done by it.

"Is it you, darling, and so out of breath?" said the voice of an old man, who rose and began to grope with his hand upon the mantel-piece. "What kept you so long? poor grandma has been in a terrible way about it." While he spoke, the grating of a match that would not readily ignite, was heard against the chimney piece.

"The gentleman, grandpa—here is a gentleman. He would come!" cried the child, artlessly.

This seemed to startle the old man. The match would not kindle; he stooped down and touched it to a live ember; as he rose again the pale blue flames fell upon the face of his wife, and rose to his own features. The illumination was but for a moment—then the wick began to fuse slowly into flame, but it was nearly half a minute before the miserable candle gave out its full complement of light. The old man turned toward the open door, shading the candle with his hand.

"Where, child? I see no gentleman."

Julia looked around. A moment before, Leicester had stood at her side. "He is gone—he is gone," she exclaimed, springing forward. "Oh, grandma—oh, grandpa, how he did frighten me; it was the man I saw on the wharf, that day!"


CHAPTER XIX. NIGHT AND MORNING.