Inside she found a lonesome scene. The moon, shining through the single window, struck across a rude table. A dark cavern at the end spoke of a fireplace which once had offered ruddy comfort.
A ladder leading to the loft stood against the wall. Without thinking much about it, she climbed that ladder. Somewhat to her surprise, she found the attic half filled with clean, dry, rustling corn husks.
“Someone stowed his corn here. Husked the corn and left the husks.”
“How—how comfortable,” she sighed as her weary body relaxed upon this springy bed.
“I’ll rest here for a moment,” she thought, “rest here for a—for a—rest—”
The next moment she was fast asleep.
Hours later she awoke with a start. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Then, catching the rustle of corn husks, she remembered where she was.
“Must have fallen asleep,” she said, a feeling of consternation coming over her. “And now it is—” She gazed about her questioningly.
“Now it is daylight,” she finished as she noted a bright bar of sunlight that fell across the floor. “Here I stay until dark.”
Here she remained. Once she left the cabin for a moment to slake her thirst at a spring that bubbled out of the rocks just back of the house. Both in coming and going she reverently parted the hollyhocks before the door.