She was not kept waiting long. Only a minute or two had elapsed when Dinah returned with a candle and revealed the fact that they stood in a small low-roofed room, the brick floor of which was partially covered with casks, packing-cases, and general lumber.
“Dis am to be your room, Geo’giana,” said her friend, holding the candle over her head and surveying the place with much satisfaction.
Poor Hester shuddered.
“It is an awful place,” she said faintly.
“Yes, it am a awrful good place,” said Dinah, with satisfaction. “Not easy to find you yar; an’ if dey did git dis lengt’ widout breakin’ dere legs, dere’s a nice leetil hole yar what you could git in an’ larf to youself.”
She led the poor girl to the other end of the room, where, in a recess, there was a boarded part of the wall. Removing one of the boards, she disclosed an opening.
“Das a small hole, Geo’giana, but it’s big enough to hold you, an’ when you’s inside you’ve on’y got to pull de board into its place, and fix it—so.”
Setting down the candle, the woman stepped into the hole, and went through the performance that would devolve upon Hester in case of emergency.
“But why leave me here at all?” pleaded Hester, when Dinah had exhausted her eulogy of the hiding-place. “Why not take me to your own home?”
“Cause it’s not so safe as dis,” answered Dinah. “P’r’aps in time you may come dere—not now. Moreober, Missis Lilly is a fuss-rate creetur, most as good as myself, if her temper was a leetil more ’eavenly. But she’s a winged serubim wid dem as don’t rile ’er, an’ she’ll be awrful good to you for my sake an’ Peter’s. You see, we was all on us took by the pints at de same time, and we’re all Christ’ns but ob course we don’t say much about dat yar!”