“It will not be dark now,” said Tom: “see how brightly the moon shines! why I could see to read by its light.”
Grace looked up, and saw that dark clouds were rising, and would soon pass over the moon, and then all would be dark again; but she strove to hide her fears, and said, as she took Tom’s hand, “Come, then, let us go; but you will not run away and leave me, will you?”
“Oh, no, dear Grace, that I will not,” said Tom: “now then, one, two, three, and away.”
At the end of the broad walk, they stood still to take breath. Grace cast her eyes into the thick shade of the trees and shrubs, and saw no cause for fear; but as the wind blew through the leaves and branches, she could fancy she heard voices, first on her right hand, and then on her left. As she had feared, the moon was now quite hid by clouds, and the pale light of the stars could not shine through the gloom of the nut-walk.
“Pray let us go now, Tom,” said Grace, as she clung to him. “Why do you stand so still? Hark! what is that noise? Oh, Tom, pray come home; there it is again!”
“Dear Grace,” said Tom, “do not fear, it is only a bird; let us stay a short time, and perhaps we may see it.”
“Oh,” said Grace, “it must be a great ugly bird, to make such a noise as that, and I do not wish to see it.”
“No, it is not very great or very ugly,” said Tom; “and I know you will want to see it, when I tell you that it is an owl; and I dare say it is the same that Smith told me of, which has its nest in the old oak.”
“Oh, is it?” said Grace: “there it is again, Hoot! hoot! hoot!”
“Hush,” said Tom; “come a step or two this way: now look, do not you see him?”