“He sniffed all over each pane, stopping every moment to eye us angrily. Then he scratched, but very gingerly, at the sash, and only tore away some splinters. The sash was stout and new.
“At last he thrust his muzzle over roughly against the pane, and his nose went through the glass. Susan sank in a heap, while mother, with deadly purpose, grasped her curtain-pole, expecting instant attack.
“It was not to be so, however; for which the world is much to be congratulated. The panther cut his nose pretty severely on the broken glass, and shrank back, snarling viciously.
“He was more than ever convinced that the skylight was a trap, and would not trust his muzzle again in the opening.
“Observing the beast’s caution, mother plucked up new hope. She remembered having read that lions and tigers were afraid of fire, and forthwith she hit on a truly brilliant expedient.
“‘Get up, Susan,’ she commanded, ‘and be of some use. Go and light that lamp on your washstand, and bring it to me.’
“Susan obeyed with alacrity, cheered by the thought that there was anything left to do. When the lamp was brought, mother laid the chimney aside, and turned up the wick so as to give a flaring, smoky blaze. Then she handed the lamp back to Susan.
“‘Take it,’ she said, ‘and set it on the top of the ladder, right under the broken pane.’
“This was too much for poor Susan.
“‘Oh, I dasn’t—never!’ she whimpered, backing hastily out of her mistress’s reach.