ing lonesome.
Father will take the horses and they will not need to be fed, and I told
Morris I could feed the two cows and the hens myself, so he need not come
home just for that. But father is calling me.

"Afternoon. Is it years and _years_ since I began this letter? My hair
has not turned white and I am not an old woman; the ink and paper look
fresh, too, fresher than the old bit of yellow paper that mother keeps so
preciously, that has written on it the invitation to her mother's wedding
that somebody returned to her. How slowly I am coming to it! But I want
to keep you in suspense. I am up in the master's chamber again, sitting
on the hearth before a snapping fire, and I haven't written one word
since I wrote you that father was calling me.

"He did call me, and I ran down and found that he wanted an extra
shawl for mother; for it might be colder to-morrow, or it might be a
snow-storm. I stood at the window and saw him pass and listened to the
jingling of his bells until they were out of hearing, and then I lighted
a bit of a candle (ah, me, that it was not longer) and went down cellar
for my apples. I opened one barrel and then another until I found the
ones I wanted, the tender green ones that you used to like; I filled my
basket and, just then hearing the back door open and a step in the entry
over my head, I turned quickly and pushed my candlestick over, and, of
course, that wee bit of light sputtered out. I was frightened, for fear a
spark might have fallen among the straw somewhere, and spent some time
feeling around to find the candlestick and to wait to see if a spark
_had_ lighted the straw; and then, before I could cry out, I heard the
footsteps pass the door and give it a pull and turn the key! Father
always does that, but this was not father. I believe it was Captain
Rheid, father left a message for him and expected him to call, and I
suppose, out of habit, as he passed the door he shut it and locked it. I
could not shout in time, he was so quick about it, and then he went out
and shut the outside door hard.

"I think I turned to stone for awhile, or fainted away, but when I came
to myself there I stood, with the candlestick in my hand, all in the
dark. I could not think what to do. I could not find the outside doors,
they are trap doors, you know, and have to be pushed up, and in winter
the steps are taken down, and I don't know where they are put. I had the
candle, it is true, but I had no match. I