wall....

The mice disturbed me again. There was a shattering of loose plaster; and
suddenly opening my eyes, I saw the ghost of grey daylight stealing
underneath the blind. The time had come!

III

Silently the three of us stole up the uncarpeted attic stair. It was
unknown territory to us, having been forbidden from the first by Mrs.
Handsomebody, and all we had ever seen from the hall below was a cramped
passage, guarded by three closed doors. Time and time again we had been
tempted to explore it, but there was a sinister aloofness about it that had
hitherto repelled us. Now, however, it had become but a pathway to the
Dawn, and, as we clutched the bannisters, we imagined ourselves three
pilgrims fearfully climbing toward light and beauty.

Angel stood first at the top. Gently he tried two doors in succession,
which were locked. The third gave, harshly--it seemed to me, grudgingly.

The Seraph and I pressed close behind Angel, glad of the warm contact of
each other's bodies.

In the large attic room, the air was stifling, and the sloping roof, from
which dim cobwebs were draped, seemed to press toward the dark shapes of
discarded furniture as though to guard some fearful secret. It took all our
courage to grope our way to the low casement, and it was a struggle to
dislodge the rusty bolt, and press the window out on its unused hinges. It
creaked so loudly that we held our breath for a moment, but we drew it
again with a sharp sensation of relief, as thirsty young animals drink, for
fresh night air, sweet, stinging to the nostrils, had surged in upon us,
sweeping away fear, and loneliness, and the hot depression of the attic
room.

Mrs. Handsomebody's house was tall, and we could look down upon many roofs
and chimneys. They huddled together in the soft grey light as though
waiting for some great happening which they expected, but did not
understand. They wore an air of expectancy and humility. Little low-roofed
out-houses pressed close to high walls for shelter, and a frosty white
skylight stared up-ward fearfully.

"Is this the Dawn?" came from The Seraph, in a tiny voice.

"Only the beginning of it," I whispered back. "There's two stars left over
from the night--see! that big blue one in the east, and the little white
one just above the cobbler's chimney."

"Will they be afwaid of the Dawn, when it comes?"

"Rather. I shouldn't be surprised if the big fellow bolted right across the
sky, and the litt