‘I will show you the way,’ she returned with a smile; and laying down her brush, took up a candle, and led me from the room.
In a few moments I was safe. My conductor vanished at once. The glimmer of my own candle in a further room guided me, and I was soon at the top of the corkscrew staircase. I found the door very slightly fastened: Clara must herself have unwittingly moved the bolt when she shut it. I found her standing, all eagerness, waiting me. We hurried back to the library, and there I told her how I had effected an entrance, and met with a guide.
‘It must have been little Polly Osborne,’ she said. ‘Her mother is going to stay all night, I suppose. She’s a good-natured little goose, and won’t tell.—Now come along. We’ll have a peep from the picture-gallery into the ball-room. That door is sure to be open.’
‘If you don’t mind, Clara, I would rather stay where I am. I oughtn’t to be wandering over the house when Mrs Wilson thinks I am here.’
‘Oh, you little coward!’ said Clara.
I thought I hardly deserved the word, and it did not make me more inclined to accompany her.
‘You can go alone,’ I said. ‘You did not expect to find me when you came.’
‘Of course I can. Of course not. It’s quite as well too. You won’t get me into any more scrapes.’
‘Did I get you into the scrape, Clara?’
‘Yes, you did,’ she answered laughing, and walked away.