“I will do my best,” said Mrs. Silverskin softly.
“You are quite sure you understand the way through the shed?” asked Graywhisker.
“Quite sure,” answered the little mouse; “I don’t see how I could possibly miss it.”
“Well, then, all is quiet now, and the sooner you are off the better.”
Mrs. Silverskin took up the thimble and started on her expedition, and the old rat returned to his hole to await her return.
When the little mouse came to the shed-door, she stopped and looked cautiously around. Not a sound was to be heard, and she crept through a little hole under the door and entered the shed. Everything was very still,—not even a mouse was stirring besides herself,—and she soon came to the stairs that led to the loft above.
A ray of moonlight fell across the stairs, and little Mrs. Silverskin stopped a minute to rest and laid the silver thimble down. It shone very prettily in the moonlight, and she looked at it longingly.
“How my children would like it for a plaything!” she said to herself; “it seems a shame they can’t have it. It is too bad to make them think that poor child is a thief. She has a very good heart. I heard them say she used to save crumbs for the mice when she didn’t have enough to eat herself. Posy, too,—she is such a dear child, I hate to make her so unhappy. I believe I will keep it for my babies, and make old Graywhisker think I put it in Nancy’s room. But then if he should ever find out the truth it would be the end of me; and he’d be sure to find it out, for he knows everything. The barn-cat came near getting him the other day,—I’m sure I wish she had. Dear me! what was that noise?”
Little Mrs. Silverskin trembled like a leaf; but all was still again, and she concluded it was only something that fell down in the loft above. So, when she was quite sure everything was quiet again, she took up the thimble and went on very cautiously.
She reached the head of the stairs and found herself in the loft, and over there in the corner was the hole just as her friend had described it to her. “If I wasn’t sure the house-cat was locked up in the kitchen, I should think she was somewhere about,” said little Mrs. Silverskin to herself, “for I feel cold shivers down my spine just as I always do when she or the barn-cat is about; but I’m only nervous, I guess.”