“Well,” said she at length, after she had been sitting upon the wall for about two hours, and saw no prospect whatever of an escape—“I suppose I have got to sit here till morning, and how much longer nobody knows, for this horrid brute acts as if he was possessed. I declare I wish this peach tree had been in Sodom before ever I touched it. What a pretty sight I shall be, going home by broad daylight, with my dress all in tatters!” and she began to cry in good earnest.
The dew and the chilly night air made her shiver, but Bose seemed to resent even the movement that she made to draw her shawl around her.
After sitting quiet for a long time, she heard the village clock strike twelve. Once more she attempted to slip stealthily from the wall, but again she was rudely detained by her watchful sentinel. Moaning and sobbing in utter despair, she concluded to submit, and wait till morning should bring relief.
Suddenly, however, a most alarming sound fell upon her ear. It was the village bells ringing briskly, as if for fire. She bethought herself directly, that in her haste, she had left some blazing brands upon her hearth, and that in consequence perhaps her own house might now be in flames. The thought made her almost distracted, but she dared not make the least movement to depart.
Once more she listened intently, and distinguished a confused sound of voices. Sometimes there appeared to be only a single one, and then to be many. Again they would seem to come near, and then go a great way off. The shouting, also, was not in the least like the cry of fire, and therefore she did not know how to understand it. She began to think, at last, that she had suddenly become deranged, and all this noise and confusion existed only in her imagination. It was not long, however, before she discovered lights glancing among the trees, and soon saw a party of men, with lanterns in their hands, coming through the orchard, directly towards her. Again she began to wonder what all this could mean, when her imagination suggested that some bloody deed had been committed in the village, and now they were out in quest of the perpetrator. A thrill of horror passed over her, and as the men came nearer she ventured to call out to them.
“O, here she is! here she is!” they all shouted at once, as they hastened towards her, and immediately they blew a terrible blast on the fish horns they carried with them, as a signal to others that the object of their search was found. Mr. Byers was the foremost of the group; and in his company were the minister, doctor, lawyer, schoolmaster, two deacons, the town clerk, and the editor of the village paper.
“Why, Mrs. Hastings!” said Mr. Byers, as he held up his lantern and surveyed her—“how came you here?”
“Well,” replied aunt Betsey, trying to put on a fair face before this honorable company—“you see my husband has been putting up his apples, and as he left all the barrels in the orchard, I thought I would just take a run down before I went to bed, to see that all was safe, when the first thing I knew this horrible dog laid hold of me, and has kept me here ever since.”
Mr. Byers held his lantern over the wall. Bose sprang up to him, wagging his tail and looking delighted, as if conscious he had done his duty. Then, seizing aunt Betsey’s basket in his teeth, he shook it with a fierce growl, scattering the few peaches that yet remained in it.