The
tramps had him fast by this time, no doubt. They'd niver let him go."

"How could he get away all by himself?" asked poor frightened Mrs. Gray.

"Ah, who knows? Like as not the thaves came into the room and lifted him
out of his very bed. They're iverywhere, thim tramps! There's no
providing against thim. Oh, howly St. Patrick! who'd have thought it?"

This happy idea of tramps having lodged itself in Marianne's mind, the
story grew rapidly. The butcher was informed of it when he came, the
fishmonger, and the grocer's boy. By noon all the village had heard the
tale, and farmers' wives for ten miles round were shuddering over these
horrible facts, that three men in black masks, with knives as long as
your arm, had broken into Mr. Gray's house at midnight, gagged the
family, stowed the silver and money in pillow-cases, token the little
boy from his bed,--that pretty little boy with curly hair, you know, my
dear,--and, paying no attention to his screams and cries, had carried
him off nobody knew where. Poor Mrs. Gray was half dead with grief, of
course, and Mr. Gray had gone in pursuit; but law! my dear, he'll never
catch 'em, and if he did, what could he do against three men?

"He'd a ought to have taken the constable with him," said old Mrs.
Fidgit, "then perhaps he'd have got him back. I guess the thieves won't
keep the boy long though, he's too troublesome! His ma sent him over
once on an errand, and I'd as lieve have a wild-cat in the house any
day. Mark my word, they'll let him drop pretty soon!"

As the day went on, Louisa began to disbelieve this theory about
robbers. It was Marianne's theory for one thing; for another, she
recollected that Archie must have taken his apples and gingerbread with
him, and his spade. "Is it likely that thieves would stop to pack up
things like that?" she asked Marianne, who was highly indignant at the
question. The afternoon came, still Mr. Gray had not returned, and there
were no tidings of Archie. Mrs. Gray, half ill with anxiety and
headache, went to her room to lie down. Marianne was describing the
exact appearance of the imaginary robbers to a crony, who stood outside
the kitchen window. "Six foot high, ivery bit, and a face as black as
chimney sut," Louisa heard her say. "Pshaw," she called out; but sitting
still became unbearable; and the motion of her needle in and out of the
work made her feel half crazy. She flung down the work,--it was a jacket
for Archie,--and, tyi