“See! See!” she ejaculated. “They’re histin’ the bag out. Did you ever see such doin’s? I’d give my soul to know what they’re up to. Nothin’ good, you may be sure of that—or they wouldn’t take the dead of night to do it. There, they’ve got the thing out now, and two of ’em are tugging it off between ’em. The other one’s fillin’ in the hole and trampin’ down the earth. Seem’s if I’d simply have to go over there an’ find out what it’s all about!”
Lucy smiled at her aunt’s exasperated tone.
“Why don’t you?” she asked mischievously.
Ellen gave a short laugh.
“The only way the Howes will ever get me on their land will be to chloroform me,” said she grimly. “But I should like to know before I go to bed what they’ve been doin’. I s’pose it’s no use to set up any longer, though, tryin’ to figure it out. We’d both better go to sleep. Good night.”
“Good night,” Lucy returned.
Only too glad to escape, she hurried back to her own room, slipped out of her clothes, and was soon lost in heavy, dreamless slumber.
The day had been a strenuous one, and she was very tired, so tired that she might not have been awakened promptly had she not stirred 92 in her sleep and become dimly conscious of a flood of radiance upon her pillow. The morning sunshine was brilliant in the chamber, and standing in its circle of gold she beheld Ellen.
“It’s six o’clock,” she announced breathlessly, “an’ I want you should get right up. Martin Howe’s gone off to the village in his wagon, an’ I can’t help a-thinkin’ that now he’s out of the way them sisters of his will start doin’ somethin’ more with that bag.”
“What bag?” yawned Lucy sleepily.