CHAPTER XXXVI
ANOTHER DAY BEGINS
They started. From below came a wail of fright. As they listened the sound came nearer and nearer. “That’s Ariadne—a bad dream—get her quiet, for the Lord’s sake.”
“Where is she sleeping?”
“In the room next the parlor.”
Rankin gave an exclamation, and leaped down the stairs. At the foot he was met by a little figure in sleeping-drawers. “Favver! Favver!” she sobbed, holding up her arms.
Rankin caught her up and held her close. “You promised you wouldn’t get so afraid of dreams, little daughter,” he said in a low, tender voice of reproach.
“But this was a nawful one!” wept Ariadne. “I fought I heard a lot of voices, men’s and ladies’ as mad—Oh! awful mad—and loud!” She went on incoherently that she had been too frightened to stir, even though after a while she dreamed that the front door slammed and they all went away. But then she was too frightened, and came out to find Favver.
Rankin took her back to her bed, and sat down beside it, keeping one big hand about the trembling child’s cold little fingers. “It was only a bad dream, Ariadne. Just go to sleep now. Father’ll sit here till you do.”
“You won’t let them come back?” asked the child, drawing long, shaken breaths.