wn and be comfortable. He did the
former, having first pulled off the obnoxious coat to favour the latter.

He may have spent twenty minutes there, chiefly cross-examining Micky on
particulars, before he got up to go. He forgot the odious coat, for
Susan Burr called him back, and tried to persuade him to put it on. He
resisted all entreaties. Such a little distance!--was it worth the
trouble? He threw it over his arm, and again departed. The two women saw
him from the door, and then, as they were exchanging a final word in the
passage, were startled by a loud screaming, and, running out, saw Mo
fling away the coat on his arm, and make such speed as he might towards
a struggling group not over visible in the shadow of the lamp
immediately above their heads.

This was within an hour of Mo's good-night, or good-bye, to M'riar at
his own doorway.

* * * * *

Aunt M'riar had wavered yet a little before the fire, and had then given
way to the thought of Dolly asleep. Dolly would be so unconscious of all
things that it would now be no pain to know that she knew nothing of
Death. Dolly asleep was always a solace to Aunt M'riar, even when she
kicked or made sudden incoherent dream-remarks in the dark.

So, after placing Mo's candlestick conspicuously, that Susan Burr, who
was pretty sure to come first, should see that he was still out, and not
put up the chain nor shoot to the bolt, M'riar made her way upstairs to
bed, very quietly, so as not to wake the children.

She was less than halfway to bed when she heard, as she thought, Susan
Burr's return. It could not be Mo, so soon. Besides, he would have
struck a match at once. He always did.

She listened for Susan's limping footstep on the stairs. Why did it not
come? Something wrong there, or at least unusual! Leaving her candle,
she wrapped herself hurriedly in a flannel garment she called her
dressing-gown, and went downstairs to the landing. All was dark below,
and the door was shut, to the street. She called in a loud whisper:--"Is
that Susan?" and no answer came:--"Who is that?" and still no answer.

She went back quickly for her candle, and descended the stairs, holding
it high up to see all round. No one in the kitchen itself, certainly.
The little parlour-door stood open. She thought she had shut it. Could
she be sure? She looked in, and could see no one--advanced into the
room, still seeing no one--and started suddenly forward as th