The fire had been covered as it always was at night, but
it blazed when she stirred it, and by the light of the flame she found a
candle on the tall mantelpiece. Holding this to the blaze, it seemed to
her as if it would never catch the flame. When the wick caught she went
running up the stairs with the lighted candle in her hand, arousing the
sleeping household by repeated calls. She did not pause to answer the
alarmed cries that came in response. She heard a scream from Miss
Penelope's room, with, muffled sounds from the widow Broadnax's, and
the disapproving tones of William Pressley's voice. But she was utterly
heedless of everything, except the necessity of getting the room ready
in time, so that there should be no waiting before doing what might be
done. She quivered with terror to think how long the delay had been
already. The servants were too far away to be summoned quickly, so that
there was only herself to do what must be done, and she set about it in
desperate haste. Hers was the only chamber that could be given him.
Every room in Cedar House was occupied, and it was always her room which
was given to a guest, so that she often slept on a couch in Miss
Penelope's chamber.
Pages:
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334