“We call them Bob and Bunny.”
“Utterly ridiculous! I ask for their baptismal names, not for anything so silly. Ah! oh—I thought you said they were in bed: these beds are empty.”
So they were; tossed about, no doubt, but with no occupants, and the bedclothes no longer warm; so that it could not have been quite lately that the truants had departed from their nightly places of rest. On further investigation, Firefly’s bed was also found in a sad state of déshabillé, and it was clearly proved, on visiting their apartments, that the twins and Katie had not gone to bed at all.
“Then, my dear, where are the family?” said Mrs. Cameron. “You and that little babe are the only ones I have yet seen. Where is Mary? where is Katharine? Where are your brothers? My dear Helen, this is awful; your brothers and sisters are evidently playing midnight pranks. Oh, there is not a doubt of it, you need not tell me. What a good thing it is that I came! Oh! my poor dear sister; what a state her orphans have been reduced to! There is nothing whatever for it but to telegraph for Miss Grinsted in the morning.”
“But, my dear auntie, I am sure, oh! I am sure you are mistaken,” began poor Helen. “The children are always very well behaved—they are, indeed they are. They don’t play pranks, Aunt Maria.”
“Allow me to use my own eyesight, Helen. The beds are empty—not a child is to be found. Come, we must search the house!”
Helen never to her dying day forgot that eerie journey through the deserted house, accompanied by Aunt Maria. She never forgot the sickening fear which oppressed her, and the certainty which came over her that Polly, poor, excitable Polly, was up to some mischief.
Sleepy Hollow was a large and rambling old place, and it was some time before the searchers reached the neighborhood of the festive garret. When they did, however, there was no longer any room for doubt. Wild laughter, and high-pitched voices singing many favorite nursery airs and school-room songs made noise enough to reach the ears even of the deafest. “John Peel” was having a frantic chorus as Helen and her aunt ascended the step-ladder.
“For the sound of his horn brought me from my bed,
And the cry of his hounds which he ofttimes led,
Peel’s ‘View Hulloo!’ would awaken the dead,
Or the fox from his lair in the morning.”
“Very nice, indeed,” said Aunt Maria, as she burst open the garret door. “Very nice and respectful to the memory of your dear mother! I am glad, children, that I have come to create decent order in this establishment. I am your aunt, Maria Cameron.”