Miss Pray tried to arouse one of her two orphans—her help: for answer they screamed aloud, sinking back into a sleep deep with snores of utter repose.
"Sh! sh!" she said. "I'll go home with you, Jimmy."
I had not taken off my great-coat. I went out of my room and followed them, unseen. In sight of the Kirtland home-light Jimmy ran in, glad. Miss Pray turned to face the darkness alone; she went a few paces, stopped, hesitated, and began to weep softly.
"I am here to walk home with you, Miss Pray," I said. "Come; I can see very well in the dark."
"Thank God!" said she, and came toward me with a little bound; for it seemed that it did not make any difference to her in this emergency that I did not know how to spell.
VII
"SETTIN' ON THE FENCE"—THE SHIFTY SPECTRE
"Admiral 's I sum-sit-up," collector of road-taxes, a title cheerfully accorded him through the genial courtesy of the Basin, came down from the Point.
In the distance we could hear him approaching as usual, the passionless monotone of his voice growing ever nearer and more distinct, as he flapped methodically first one rein, then the other, over the unhurried action of his horse, sagely admonishing him to "G'long! ye old fool! Git up! ye old skate!"