The young man-servant, Anthony, came sauntering through the hall. He opened the door, took a note from a boy, and while he was looking at the address, and the boy was looking at him, I crept by them both.
Neither saw me, and I sprang down the steps, across the pavement, into the street, over the other sidewalk, and down more steps to the Common. Oh, how dark and cold it was in spite of the bright lights sparkling everywhere! How different from the Denvilles' warm house. Was I frightened? No, I was not. Something rose in me—something that was all joy. I loved the darkness, because it was like a big, safe covering over me. Boys could not see me now, nor dogs, and I could see them. I was not a bit afraid, but I was cold, and I would like to finish my work, and get into the house again.
“Meow! meow!” I said tentatively, and I walked toward the pond. The strange pussy was not there. “Meow!” I said again, and I went toward a big elm that was a favorite hiding-place of hers.
She did not answer me, and I had to conceal myself for a minute, until two young men passed.
For a long time I went from tree to tree, but there was not a sound. Then I gave up calling and, crouching on all fours behind a seat, I began to talk cat talk to myself. “I wish I could find that poor creature. I would like to do something for her. If she knew what a good home I could lead her to, she would come to me. Oh! meow! meow! I am so sorry for her.”
I paused for an instant to listen to a distant fire-alarm, then I got up and began to stretch myself. I might as well go home. Just then, I thought I heard a faint sound.
“Meow!” I said encouragingly.
“Meow!” said a very small voice, a very small, thin voice.
“Meow!” I said more loudly. “Don't be afraid. I am only a kitten. Meow! meow!”
She would not come to me, and I began to investigate. There she was under the shadow of the bank, a crouching, gray creature, too terrified to move, and yet all ready to spring away.