dubiously, and mopped his face with a large
red handkerchief.

"What are you trying to do to Jeremiah?" inquired Nan, as they went
along.

"Him fool nigger. We make him dream bad dream," responded Tasma Tid
curtly.

The two were in no hurry. They sauntered along leisurely, and, although
the sun had not set, by the time they had entered the woods in which the
school-house stood, the deep shadows of the trees gave the effect of
twilight to the scene. Tasma Tid led Nan to the old building, and told
her to wait a moment. The African crawled under the house, and then
suddenly reappeared at the back door, near which Nan stood waiting.
Tasma Tid had crawled under the house, and lifted a loose plank in the
floor of the closet, making her entrance in that way. The front door was
locked and the key was safe in the pocket of the Rev. Jeremiah, but the
back door was fastened on the inside, and Tasma Tid had no trouble in
getting it open.

It is fair to say that Nan hesitated before entering. Some instinct or
presentiment held her a moment. She was not afraid; her sense of fear
had never developed itself; it was one of the attributes of human nature
that was foreign to her experience; and this was why some of her
actions, when she was younger, and likewise when she was older, were
inexplicable to the rest of her sex, and made her the object of
criticism which seemed to have good ground to go upon. Nan hesitated
with her foot on the step, but it was not her way to draw back, and she
went in. Tasma Tid refastened the door very carefully, and then turned
and led the way toward the closet. The room was not wholly dark; one or
two of the shutters had fallen off, and in this way a little light
filtered in. Nan followed Tasma Tid to the closet, the door of which was
open.

"Dis-a we house," said Tasma Tid; "dis-a de place wey we live at."

"Why did you come here?" Nan asked.

"We had no nurrer place; all-a we frien' gone; da's why."

What further comment Nan may have made cannot even be guessed, for at
that moment there was a noise at one of the windows; some one was trying
to raise the sash. Nan and Tasma Tid held their breath while they
listened, and then, when they were sure that some one was preparing to
enter the building, the African closed the closet door noiselessly, and
pulled Nan after her to the narrowest and most uncomfortable part of the
musty and dusty place--the space next the stairway, where it was so low
that th