"But yes, yes—certainly, come often," said the woman. "Come at any hour," she said under her breath, and seizing 'Tilda Jane's hand in her own, "if it is not agreeable there, at any time run here."
"I'm 'bliged to you," said Tilda Jane, gratefully, "much 'bliged, an' if you want any floors scrubbed, or anythin' done, jus' you run over an' get me. I'll come—" and with a sturdy nod of her head, she took her dogs, and slipped out into the darkness.
"If agreeable leave your dogs here till mornin'," called the woman after her.
The little girl shook her head. "I guess he'd better see 'em right off. Good-night, an' thank you."
The woman clasped her hands, and, looking up at the sky before she went into the house, murmured in her own language, "Holy One, guard her from that terrible rage!"
[CHAPTER XVI.]
THE TIGER IN HIS LAIR.
The next house to that of the French people was larger and more pretentious than theirs. It had more of a garden, there were two stories instead of one, and the roof was surmounted by a tiny tower.