"I believe it isn't robbers."
"Not robbers? Why, you told me it was," said her husband, bewildered.
"I believe it's that boy."
"What,—Sam?"
"Yes."
"What would he want downstairs?"
"I don't know, but it's him, I'll be bound. Light the lamp, deacon, and go up and see."
"But it might be robbers," objected the deacon, in alarm. "They might get hold of me, and kill me."
"I didn't think you were such a coward, Mr. Hopkins," said his wife, contemptuously. When she indulged in severe sarcasm, she was accustomed to omit her husband's title.
"I aint a coward, but I don't want to risk my life. It's a clear flyin' in the face of Providence. You'd ought to see that it is, Martha," said the deacon, reproachfully.