Martha's explanation was accepted by every one save the cook. Miss Durrant even went so far as to say she was certain it was a cat, and that if cook had only exercised proper self-control the house and neighbourhood need not have been alarmed. She repudiated the idea of being nervous herself, but was, nevertheless, very restless and fidgety during the remainder of the evening.
As the commotion in the house gradually died away, Gus no longer listened intently to every sound. Drowsiness crept over him as he lay warm and snug behind the pillows. At last, notwithstanding every cause for uneasiness, he fell fast asleep.
[CHAPTER XIII.]
AN INNOCENT BURGLAR.
HOW long Gus had slept, he could not have told, when he was awakened by the sound of voices in the room. For a moment he imagined, with a thrill of fear, that Lucas and Jack were at hand, ready to execute the violent threats with which they had driven him into the house. But the voices, one high and thin, the other low and sweet, could not well be mistaken for those of men. Hot and half-suffocated in the narrow space in which he lay, Gus gradually remembered how he came to be in such a position, and knew that the voices he heard were those of Miss Durrant and her niece.
"I feel convinced now, Edith, that it was only a cat."
"That is very likely, aunt."
"You have looked under the bed, Edith?"
"Yes, and there is certainly no cat there."
"No; there is really nothing to be alarmed at. I am not at all nervous, still, I am glad that Mr. Thornton has allowed his man to sleep below to-night. It is well to have a man on the premises."