“Thank God!—is she down there?” exclaimed she.
“Come down, ma’am, please; she’s quite well, and she’ll be glad to see ye.”
Old Dulcibella’s head disappeared from the window promptly.
“Now, ma’am, she’ll be down, and when she comes—for ye’d like to ha’ some one by ye—I’ll go in and make the kitchen door fast.”
“And won’t you search it well, Mrs. Tarnley, and the inner room, that we may be certain no one is hid there? Pray do—may I rely on you—won’t you promise?”
“There’s nothin’ there, that I promise ye.”
“But, oh! pray do,” urged Alice.
“I will, ma’am, just to quiet ye. Ye need not fear, I’ll leave her no chance, and she’ll soon be safe enough, she shall—safe enough when she gets on her doublet of stone; and don’t ye be frightenin’ yourself for nothin’—just keep yourself quiet, for there is nothing to fear, and if ye will keep yourself in a fever for nothin’ ye’ll be just making food for worms, mark my words.”
As she spoke old Dulcibella appeared, and with a face of deep concern waddled as fast as she could toward her young mistress, raising her hands and eyes from time to time as she approached.
As she drew nearer she made a solemn thanksgiving, and—