This being done, he sat down in a chair, with the rusty musket in his hand, and began his watch.
From his position he could see the broad, flat candlestick standing on the chest, with the dip already burned so low that it was doubtful whether it could last an hour longer.
"What's the use of that burning, anyway?" he asked himself; "that fellow isn't afraid to come in, and the candle will only serve to show him the way."
Acting under the impulse, he walked softly through the door to where the yellow light was burning, and with one puff extinguished it.
The wick glowed several minutes longer, sending out a strong odor, which pervaded both rooms. Fred watched it until all became darkness, and then he was not sure he had done a wise thing after all.
The trees on both sides of the house were so dense that their leaves shut out nearly all the moonlight which otherwise would have entered the room. Only a few rays came through the window of the other apartment, and these, striking the large, square chest showed its dim outlines, with the phantom-like candlestick on top.
Where Fred himself sat it was dark and gloomy, and his situation, we are sure all will admit, was enough to try the nerves of the strongest man, even if furnished with a good weapon of offence and defence.
"I hope the ladies will sleep," was the unselfish thought of the little hero, "for there isn't any use of their being disturbed when they can't do anything but scream, and a robber don't care for that."
One of the hardest things is to keep awake when exhausted by some unusual effort of the bodily or mental powers, and we all know under how many conditions it is utterly impossible.