It is when we pause to think that fear often takes hold of us. Elsie was a brave child; but, somehow, just then her courage seemed to desert her. She remained for an instant listening to the whispering of the night wind, and the mysterious sound which had first roused her from her slumbers; then she drew back in sudden panic, locked the door as if in the fear of some lion, and went quickly back the way she had come.
"Tick-tack! tick-tack!" muttered the old clock. He never felt afraid at having to stand alone all night in the darkness. Elsie hurried past him, and after one or two stumbles on the stairs, regained her bedroom.
"Ida! Wake up!"
"Every one of my sums is right," murmured Ida drowsily. "You can always get them right with a blue pencil."
"Wake up, Ida! I want to tell you something."
"Oh, bother!" grumbled the elder girl. "What's the matter, Elsie? What d'you want to keep shaking me for when I'm sound asleep?"
"Why, I want to tell you there's some one turning our grindstone."
"Well, what if they are? I suppose it's meant to be turned."
"But not now. It's two o'clock in the morning. No one ought to be about there at this time."
Ida sat up, rubbed her eyes, and yawned.