Here she waited and waited, but Festus did not seem inclined to depart; and at last, foreboding some collision of interests from Bob’s new friendship for this man, she crept into a storeroom which was over the apartment into which Loveday and Festus had gone. By looking through a knot-hole in the floor it was easy to command a view of the room beneath, this being unceiled, with moulded beams and rafters.
Festus had sat down on the hollow window-bench, and was continuing the statement of his wrongs. ‘If he only knew what he was sitting upon,’ she thought apprehensively, ‘how easily he could tear up the flap, lock and all, with his strong arm, and seize upon poor Uncle Benjy’s possessions!’ But he did not appear to know, unless he were acting, which was just possible. After a while he rose, and going to the table lifted the candle to light his pipe. At the moment when the flame began diving into the bowl the door noiselessly opened and a figure slipped across the room to the window-bench, hastily unlocked it, withdrew the box, and beat a retreat. Anne in a moment recognized the ghostly intruder as Festus Derriman’s uncle. Before he could get out of the room Festus set down the candle and turned.
‘What—Uncle Benjy—haw, haw! Here at this time of night?’
Uncle Benjy’s eyes grew paralyzed, and his mouth opened and shut like a frog’s in a drought, the action producing no sound.
‘What have we got here—a tin box—the box of boxes? Why, I’ll carry it for ’ee, uncle!—I am going home.’
‘N-no-no, thanky, Festus: it is n-n-not heavy at all, thanky,’ gasped the squireen.
‘O but I must,’ said Festus, pulling at the box.
‘Don’t let him have it, Bob!’ screamed the excited Anne through the hole in the floor.
‘No, don’t let him!’ cried the uncle. ‘’Tis a plot—there’s a woman at the window waiting to help him!’
Anne’s eyes flew to the window, and she saw Matilda’s face pressed against the pane.