se without the feeling of the man before
her, and seeming to hear the rattle-rattle of a leathern apron he was
wearing, which clattered against the banisters as he ran. But she kept
her head to the end of the chase; she followed him--all in the dark,
remember--down to the bottom of the staircase, and, guided by the clatter
of his apron, through a back kitchen in the basement which opened into a
yard--there she stopped--she heard him clatter through this cellar,
banging the door--which had been left open, and through which he had
evidently made his way into the house--after him, as if to prevent her
following him farther. Poor thing, she certainly had no wish to do so;
she felt her way to the door and felt for the key to lock it securely.
But alas, when she pushed the door closely to, preparatory to locking it,
it resisted her. Some one or something seemed to push against her from
the outside. Then for the first time her courage gave way, and thinking
that the man had returned, with others perhaps, she grew sick and faint
with fright. She sank down helplessly on the floor for a moment or two.
But all seemed quiet; her courage and common sense returned; she got up
and felt all about the door carefully, to try to discover the obstacle.
To her delight she found that some loose sand or earth driven into a
little heap on the floor was what prevented the door shutting. She
smoothed it away with her hand, closed the door and locked it firmly, and
then, faint and trembling, but safe, made her way back to the little room
where her light was burning. You can fancy how glad she was, a very few
moments afterwards, to hear my grandfather's cheerful whistle outside."

"But," interrupted Molly, her eyes looking bigger and rounder than usual,
"but suppose the man had been waiting outside to catch him--your
grandfather--grandmother, when he came in?"

"But the man wasn't doing anything of the sort, my dear Molly. He had
gone off in a fright, and when my grandmother thought it over coolly, she
felt convinced that he was not a regular burglar, and so it turned out.
He was a man who worked at a smithy near by, and this was his first
attempt at burglary. He had heard that my grandfather was to be out late,
through one of the servants, whom he had persuaded not to lock the door,
on the pretense that he might be passing and would look in to say
good-night. It all came out afterwards."

"And was he put in prison?" said Molly.

"No," said gra