“A horrid specter rises to my sight.”
“I hear a knocking in the south entry.Hark! more knocking!”—Macbeth.
Throwing open the folding-doors, Mrs. Moodie passed into the school-room, closely followed by Pet.
It was a long, high, wide room, with desks running round the walls, and maps, globes, books and slates scattered profusely around. Before each desk was a chair, and some sixty girls of all sizes and sorts sat now busily conning their lessons.
Two or three teachers sat in various directions, round the room, before little tables, with their eyes fixed on the students, ready to note down the slightest infringement of the rules.
It was seldom the commander-in-chief of the establishment swept her silken flounces through the hot, dustyclasse; and now, according to the long-established rule, teachers and pupils rose simultaneously, and courtesied profoundly to that august lady. Then every eye in sixty-three heads turned and fixed themselves upon the new pupil with that sharp, searching, unpitying stare that only school-girls understand. Petronilla, however, was not in the remotestdegree troubled with that disagreeable failing, yclept bashfulness; and glancing round composedly, she swept the whole room at a glance, and returned every stare with compound interest.
“Young ladies,” said Mrs. Moodie, with a graceful wave of her hand toward Pet, “this young lady is Miss Petronilla Lawless, of Judestown, and will be your future companion and fellow-pupil. I hope you will be mutually pleased with each other, and try to make her at home among you as soon as possible. Miss Sharpe she will enter your division.”
And, with a stately bow of her beribboned head, Mrs. Moodie rustled loudly from the room, while teachers and pupils again bowed in deepest reverence.
Pet gave an assenting nod to Mrs. Moodie’s remarks, which had the effect of making two or three of the young ladies, indulge in a little giggle behind their handkerchiefs. Then, from a distant corner, came a small, keen, wiry-looking human terrier, known by the appropriate cognomen of Miss Sharpe, who immediately laid hands upon Pet, saying:
“Miss Lawless, come this way. You are to enter my class.”
Pet, as good a physiognomist as ever lived, raised her keen eyes to the cantankerous face of the cross-looking old young lady, and conceived, upon the spot, a most intense dislike to her. The other girls, at a silent motion from their teachers, had dropped into their seats, and resumed their studies—still, however, covertly watching the new pupil with all a schoolgirl’s curiosity.
Pet was led by sharp Miss Sharpe to the remote corner from whence she had issued, and where sat some dozen or two “juvenile ladies,” all smaller than Pet. Miss Lawless looked at them a moment in indisguised contempt, and then stopped short, jerked herself free from Miss Sharpe’s grasp, and coming to a sudden stand-still, decidedly began:
“I ain’t a-going to sit among them there little things. I want to go over there!”
And she pointed to where a number of young ladies, whose ages might have varied from seventeen to twenty, sat in the “First Division.”
A very little thing will produce a laugh in a silent school-room, where the pupils are ever ready to laugh at anything anew scholar does or says; and the effect of this brief speech was a universal burst of subdued laughter from the sixty “young ladies” aforesaid.
“Well, you can’t go there!” said Miss Sharpe, sharply, looking daggers at Pet. “You are to sit in my division—which is the lowest!”
“Yes, I see it is,” said Pet; “but you needn’t get so cross about it. I should think, when my papa pays for me, I could sit wherever I like. I’m sure this hot old room, without even a carpet on the floor, ain’t much of a place to sit in, anyway.”
Another universal laugh, louder than the first, followed this; and the sixty pairs of eyes flashed with wicked delight—for Miss Sharpe was the detestation of the school.
“Silence!” called the head monitor, sternly.
Miss Sharpe clutched Pet’s shoulder with no gentle hand, and jerked her into a seat with an angry scowl.
“You must keep silence, Miss Lawless,” she began, with asperity. “Young ladies are not allowed to talk in the class-room. You will have to sit wherever you are placed, and make no complaints. Such rude behavior is not allowed here. Hold your tongue, now, and read this.”
Hereupon she took from her table the “First Book of Lessons,” and put it into Pet’s hand, with another scowl, darker, if possible, than the first.
Pet took it, and holding it upside down for a while, seemed to be intently studying, thinking all the while that life in a school-room was not only as pleasant, but considerably pleasanter, than she had anticipated.
But for Pet Lawless to keep silent any length of time was simply a moral impossibility; so, finding the cross teacher’s lynx eyes turned for a moment the other way, she bent over toward her next neighbor, a little red-eyed, red-haired girl, about her own age, and whispered, in strict confidence, pointing to Miss Sharpe:
“Ain’t she a horrid cross old thing?”
But the young lady only glanced askance at the audacious little law-breaker at her side, and edged nervously away from her.
Petronilla not being easily affronted or slighted, however, came close to little red-head, and holding her book to hermouth, whispered again:
“Does she ever whip you or anything? She looks cross enough to do it. Ain’t it awful, coming to school?”
Seeing there was no escape from her persecutor, red-head thrust her knuckles into her eyes and began to cry.
“What’s the matter now?” said the teacher, turning sharply round, and looking threateningly at Pet.
“Why, Miss Sharpe, she keeps a-talking to me all the time and won’t stop,” whispered the unhappy owner of the red hair.
“What is she saying?” said Miss Sharpe, in a quick, irritated voice, that strongly reminded Pet of Dismal Hollow and Miss Priscilla Toosypegs.
“She—she—she says you’re a—a—a horrid cross old thing, please, ma’am!” wept the little one, digging her knuckles still further into her eyes.
Miss Sharpe’s face grew black as a thunder-cloud—owing to her peculiar complexion, she generally blushed black or deep orange. In all her thirteen years’ teaching, she had never encountered a pupil who had dared to call her a “horrid cross old thing” before. Old!—that was the the worst. To be called so before the whole school, too! Miss Sharpe sat for one awful moment perfectly speechless with rage, and so black in the face that there seemed serious danger of her bursting a blood-vessel on the spot.
Once again a loud laugh, that would not be restrained, came from the sixty pretty mouths of the sixty young ladies so often spoken of. Even the teachers, although they sternly called “silence!” were forced to cough violently to hide the smile that was creeping over their faces at Miss Sharpe’s rage.
Meantime, our dauntless Pet sat with a sort of head-up-and-heels-down look, that was a sight to see; her arms akimbo, and her bright black eyes blazing with defiance, daringly riveted on the face of the justly-offended teacher.
“Did—did you dare to say that, you—you impudent, impertinent—young saucy—”
“Abandoned, outrageous son of a gun!” put in Pet, composedly.
“Silence! Did you dare to call me that—that name?”
“I didn’t call you any name—I said you were a horridcross old thing; and I’ll leave it to everybody here if you ain’t! I ain’t used to hold my tongue—and I’m not going to do it, either!” said Pet, all ablaze with defiance.
Miss Sharpe sat unable to speak, her rage almost swamped in her utter amazement. In all her experience she had never come across so desperate and utterly depraved a case as this. Every book was dropped, and every eye fixed on Pet. Even the other teachers, unable longer to repress their smiles, exchanged glances of surprise, and watched with interest and curiosity, the little original, who sat staring at Miss Sharpe as if for a wager.
“I—I won’t endure this! I am not to be insulted in this manner!” said Miss Sharpe, rising passionately. “I’ll go and report her to Mrs. Moodie; and either she or I must leave this class.”
“My dear Miss Sharpe, be calm,” said the head teacher, a pleasant-faced young girl, as she rose and came over. “There is no use in troubling Mrs. Moodie about the matter. This little girl, you perceive, has been indulged and spoiled all her life, and cannot readily submit to authority now. My dear,” she added, turning to Pet, “you must sit still and not talk. It is against the rules; and you perceive you are giving Miss Sharpe a great deal of trouble.”
“Well, so is she, just as bad! She’s giving me a great deal of trouble, too! I want to go and sit in your class.”
“But you can’t sit in my class, Miss Lawless. You must keep the place allotted you. Little girls should be docile and obedient, you know, and do as they are told. Will you sit still now, and be quiet?”
“Yes; if she lets me alone!” pointing to Miss Sharpe.
“You must do as your teacher says, child. Now, do be a good little girl, and don’t talk.” And the sweet-voiced young lady patted Pet’s black curly head kindly, and went back to her place.
Miss Sharpe, looking as if she would like to pounce upon Pet, and pound the life out of her, relapsed scowling into her seat; and Pet, curling her lip contemptuously at the cross teacher, took a lead pencil out of her pocket and began amusing herself drawing caricatures of her all over the book she held in her hand.
A profound silence again fell on the hot, closeclasse, andthe girls bent over to-morrow’s tasks; now and then however, smiling slyly at each other, and glancing significantly at the new-comer, whose short half-hour in school had already created a sensation quite unparalleled in all the past history of the establishment, and which was destined to fill sixty letters home to “papa and mama” next time they wrote. Then, in half an hour more, a bell loudly rung, and every girl jumped eagerly up. This was the signal that school for the day was dismissed; and books, slates and pencils were hustled hastily out of sight; and two by two the girls marched through the now open folding-doors, beginning with the tallest, through the long hall staircase, through another hall, out of a side-room, and into an immense play-ground, furnished with wings, skipping-ropes, hoops and everything else necessary for recreation and amusement.
But no longer were hoops, and swings, and skipping-ropes seized with loud shouts as heretofore; newer and more attractive game was in view now, and every one crowded around our Pet, surveying her with open eyes as if she were some natural curiosity.
But Pet had no intention of standing there to be looked at and cross-questioned; and breaking through the ring with the yell of an Ojibewa Indian, she sprung into one of the swings, and invited “some of ’em to come and swing her.”
Like hops in beer, Pet’s presence seemed to throw the whole assembly in a ferment hitherto unknown. The swings flew wildly; the skipping-ropes went up and down with lightning-like velocity; the hoops whirled and flew over the ground in a way that must have astonished even themselves, if hoops ever can be astonished. The girls raced, and ran, and skipped, and laughed as they had never done before; and the noise and uproar waxed “fast and furious.” And wherever the fun was highest, the laughter loudest, the excitement wildest, there you might find Pet, the center and origin of it all. Cross Miss Sharpe, who had been sent out to look after them, and see that none of them broke their necks, if possible, wrung her hands in despair at the awful din, and rushed hither and thither, scolding, shaking, threatening, and vociferating at the top of her lungs; but all in vain. They were everyone going crazy—that was evident; and that little minx, who had come there that day to throw the whole school in convulsions, was the cause of it all.
But even school-girls, with lungs, and throats, and faces very often of brass, must get exhausted at last; and after an hour’s steady screaming and yelling, the whole assemblage shrieked, laughed and shouted themselves into hoarseness and comparative quiet.
Pet, somewhat fatigued after her exertions, was seated in the midst of a group of girls, telling, in solemn tones, a most awful “raw-head and bloody bones” ghost story, which she “made up” as she went along, and which was destined to deprive at least twenty little individuals of a wink of sleep that night.
Every one was bending eagerly forward, listening breathlessly to Pet, who had just got “Jack” into the “haunted castle,” and was announcing the coming of a “great big black man, with red-hot coals for eyes, and flames of fire coming out of his mouth,” when a thin, sharp shadow fell over them, and, looking up with a terrified start, they beheld Miss Sharpe standing over them.
“What is she talking about now?” queried that lady, with no very amiable glances toward Pet.
“She’s telling a ghost story; that’s what she’s talking about!” said Pet, instantly beginning to be provoking.
“Ghosts!” said Miss Sharpe, turning up her nose though nature had already saved her the trouble. “Such stuff! You must not terrify the children by telling them such things, little girl.”
“It’s not stuff!” said Pet; “It’s as true as preaching. I’ve seen lots of ghosts myself. There, now!”
“Miss Lawless, do you know where little girls that tell fibs go to?” said Miss Sharpe, sternly.
“Yes, the same place you’ll go to, I expect,” said Pet, pertly; “but I ain’t telling fibs—I never do. And I have seen plenty of ghosts, too. There’s a whole settlement of them out where we live. I only wish I had brought some of them to school with me, and then you would see. That’s all!”
“You naughty little girl!” said Miss Sharpe, angrily. “How dare you tell me such a story? You have seen ghosts, indeed!Why, everybody knows there is no such thing.”
“What do you bet there’s not?” said Pet.
“Miss Lawless, you forget to whom you are speaking!” said Miss Sharpe, with dignity.
“No, I don’t; I know very well to whom I am speaking,” said Pet, imitating her tone; “and I know just as well there are ghosts. They’re great, tall, thin people, in white, with hollow eyes, that come at midnight and scare people. I’ve seen them, and I guess I ought to know.”
Miss Sharpe, disdaining an altercation with the elf, who was already bristling up in anticipation of a controversy, turned and walked away majestically, or, at least, as majestically as her four feet eight inches would allow.
Pet looked after her with a boding eye that told wonderful tales, if she could only have read it; but she contented herself with mentally exclaiming:
“Oh, I’ll dose you! Maybe you won’t see a ghost tonight, old Miss Vinegar.”
“There, now, go on with the story,” chorused half a dozen voices, when Miss Sharpe was gone.
“See here,” said Pet, without heeding the request, “where does she—Miss Sharpe I mean—sleep at night?”
“With us,” said one of the small girls, “in the children’s dormitory. The large girls have rooms to themselves, every two of them; but we sleep in a long room all full of beds, and Miss Sharpe sleeps there, too.”
“Hum-m-m! Do you know where I am to sleep?”
“Yes; all Miss Sharpe’s division sleep in the children’s dormitory. You’ll be there.”
“Um-m-m! I should like to see the place. Would we be let?”
“Oh, yes. If you can get one of the girls in the First Division to go with you, she can take you all over the house.”
Off ran Pet, and without much difficulty she persuaded one of the First Division girls to show her through the house.
The first place they visited was the children’s dormitory. This was a long room, with rows of white-curtained beds on either side for the children, and one larger than the rest, atthe further end, for Miss Sharpe. Small washstands and mirrors were scattered around, and near each bed was placed a small trunk belonging to the children.
Pet scanned these arrangements with a thoughtful eye. Then, turning to her cicerone, she said:
“In which of the beds am I to sleep?”
“In this one,” said the girl, indicating one at the extreme end of the room, opposite Miss Sharpe’s. “The room was full; so they had to put it close to the window, and you will have a chance to see everybody that passes.”
Pet went over to examine. Within a few inches of the bed was a window overlooking the street. It was partly raised now, and Pet thrust her head out to “see what she could see,” as they say. The first thing that struck her was the fact that the window was in a straight line above the hall door, and only removed from it the distance of a foot or two. Instantly a demoniacal project of mischief flashed across her fertile brain; and as she withdrew her head her wicked eyes, under their long, drooping lashes, were fairly scintillating with the anticipation of coming fun.
“Do they use bells or knockers on their doors, around here?” she carelessly asked, as she flitted about.
“Some use one, some the other. There is a large brass knocker on this door. I am sure you must have seen it.”
“I had forgotten. This is my trunk, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“What time do they go to bed here?”
“Nine in summer—eight in winter.”
“Hum-m-m! I know now. And do they stay out in that yard all the time?”
“Oh, no. As soon as it gets dusk we come in, have supper, and then the larger girls practice their music, or read, or write to their friends or study, or sew, or do whatever they like; and the little girls of your division play about the halls and passages.”
“Um-m-m! I see,” said Pet, in the same musing tone, while her wicked eyes, under their long, dark lashes, were twinkling with the very spirit of mischief. “Could you get me a good long cord, do you think? I want it for something.”
“Yes, I think so. Do you want it now?”
“Yes, please.”
“Very well; wait here till I go up to my room and get it for you,” said the unsuspecting young lady.
“Oh, ching-a-ring-a-ring-chaw!” shouted Pet, dancing round the long room with irrepressible glee, when she found herself alone. “Oh, won’t I have fun to-night! Won’t I show them what spiritual rapping is! Won’t there be weeping and gnashing of teeth before morning!
‘Mrs. MacShuttle,She lived in a scuttle,Along with her dog and her cat.’”
sang the imp, seizing a huge pitcher from one of the washstands and flourishing it over her head as she sung. Round and round she whirled, until her pitcher came furiously against the wall, and smash! in a thousand fragments it fell on the floor.
Arrested in her dance, Firefly stood still one moment, in dismay. Here was a winding-up of her extempore waltz quite unlooked for. There on the floor lay the pitcher, shivered into atoms, and there stood Pet, holding the handle still, and glancing utterly aghast from the ruins on the floor to the fragment of crockery in her hand.
“Whew! here’s a go!” was the elegant expression first jerked out of Pet by the exigency of the case. “I expect this pitcher’s been in the establishment ever since it was an establishment, and would have been in it as much longer only for me. Pet, child, look out! There’ll be murder, distraction, and a tearing off of our shirts! Fall of Jerusalem! won’t Miss Sharpe give me a blowing up, though!”
“Oh, Miss Lawless! what have you done?” cried the young lady, in tones of consternation, as she suddenly entered.
“Smashed the crockery,” said Pet, coolly pointing to the wreck.
“Oh, dear me! Oh, Miss Lawless! how could you do so?”
“Didn’t go for to do it. Got smashed itself.”
“Miss Sharpe will be very angry, Miss Lawless.”
“Well, that don’t worry me much,” said Pet.
“I am afraid she will blame me. I should not have left you here alone,” said the young lady, twisting her fingers in distress.
“No, she won’t. I’ll send out and buy another one.”
“Oh, you can’t. The servants are not allowed to run errands for the young ladies without permission from Mrs. Moodie. You will have to tell Miss Sharpe.”
“Well, come along then; I’ll tell her. Did you bring the string?”
“Yes, here it is. Oh, Miss Lawless! I am exceedingly sorry.”
“Well—my goodness! you needn’t be. An old blue pitcher! I used to throw half a dozen of them, every day, at the servants, at home, and nobody ever made a fuss about it. A common old blue pitcher—humph!”
“Oh! but it was different at home. They were your own, there; and Miss Sharpe is so—queer. She will scold you dreadfully.”
“Well, so will I, then—there! I can scold as long and as loud as she can, I reckon. An old blue pitcher! Humph! Wish to gracious I had smashed the whole set, and made one job of it.”
By this time they had reached the play-ground; and making her way through the crowd, Pet marched resolutely up to Miss Sharpe, and confronted that lady with an expression as severe as though she were about to have her arrested for high treason.
“Miss Sharpe, look here!” she began. “I’ve been upstairs and smashed an old blue pitcher. There!”
“What!” said Miss Sharpe, knitting her brows, and rather at a loss.
“Miss Lawless was in the children’s dormitory, Miss Sharpe,” explained the girl who had been Pet’s guide, “and she accidentally broke one of the pitchers. She could not help it, I assure you.”
“But I know she could help it,” screamed Miss Sharpe. “She has done it on purpose, just to provoke me. Oh, you little limb you!—you unbearable little mischief-maker! You deserve to be whipped till you can’t stand.”
“See here, Miss Sharpe; you’ll be hoarse pretty soon, if you keep screaming that way,” said Pet, calmly.
“I’ll go and tell Mrs. Moodie. I’ll go this minute. Such conduct as this, you’ll see, will not be tolerated here,” shrieked the exasperated lady, shaking her fist furiously at Pet.
“Mrs. Moodie has gone out,” said one of the girls.
“Then I’ll tell her to-morrow. I’ll—”
Here the loud ringing of a bell put a stop to further declamation, and the girls all flew, flocking in, and marched, two by two, into another large room, where a long supper-table was laid out.
It was almost dark when the evening meal was over. Then the larger girls dispersed themselves to their various avocations, and the younger ones, under the care of a gentler monitor than Miss Sharpe, raced about the long halls and passages, and up and down-stairs.
Now was the time Pet had been waiting for. Gliding unobserved, up-stairs, she entered the dormitory, and securing one end of the string to the bed-post, let the remainder drop out of the window. Then returning down-stairs, she passed unnoticed through the front hall, and finally secured the other end of the string to the knocker of the door. It was too dark, as she knew, for any to observe the cord in opening the door.
This done, she returned to her companions, all aglow with delight at her success so far; and instigated by her, the din and uproar soon grew perfectly unbearable, and the whole phalanx were ordered off to bed half an hour earlier than usual, to get rid of the noise.
As Judge Lawless had said, it was a rigidly strict establishment; and the rule was that, at half-past nine, every light should be extinguished, and all should be safely tucked up in bed. Even Mrs. Moodie herself was no exception to this rule; for, either thinking example better than precept, or being fond of sleeping, ten o’clock always found her in the arms of Morpheus.
Therefore, at ten o’clock, silence, and darkness, and slumber, hung over the establishment of Mrs. Moodie. In the children’s dormitory, nestling in their white-draped beds, the little tired pupils were sleeping the calm, quiet sleep of childhood, undisturbed by feverish thoughts or gloomy forebodings of the morrow. Even Miss Sharpe had testily permitted herself to fall stiffly asleep, and lay with her mouth open, stretched out as straight as a ramrod, and about as grim. All were asleep—all but one.
One wicked, curly, mischief-brewing little head there wasby far too full of naughty thoughts to sleep. Pet, nestling on her pillow, was actually quivering with suppressed delight at the coming fun.
She heard ten o’clock—eleven strike, and then she got up in bed and commenced operations. Her first care was to steal softly to one of the washstands, and thoroughly wet a sponge, which she placed on the window-ledge within her reach, knowing she would soon have occasion to use it.
Taking some phosphureted ether, which she had procured for the purpose of “fun” before leaving home, she rubbed it carefully over her face and hands.
Reader, did you ever see any one in the dark with their faces and hands rubbed over with phosphureted ether? looking as though they were all on fire—all encircled by flames? If you have, then you know how our Pet looked then.
Sitting there, a frightful object to contemplate, she waited impatiently for the hour of midnight to come.
The clock struck twelve, at last; the silence was so profound that the low, soft breathing of the young sleepers around her could be plainly heard. In her long, flowing night-wrapper, Pet got up and tiptoed softly across the room to the bed where the cross she-dragon lay.
Now, our Pet never thought there could be the slightest danger in what she was about to do, or, wild as she was, she would most assuredly not have done it. She merely wished to frighten Miss Sharpe for her obstinacy, unbelief in ghosts and crossness, and never gave the matter another thought.
Therefore, though it was altogether an inexcusable trick, still Pet was not so very much to blame as may at first appear.
Now she paused for a moment to contemplate the sour, grim-looking sleeper—thinking her even more repulsive in sleep than when awake; and then laying one hand on her face, she uttered a low, hollow groan, destined for her ears alone.
Miss Sharpe, awakened from a deep sleep by the disagreeable and startling consciousness of an icy-cold hand on her face, started up in affright, and then she beheld an awful vision! A white specter by her bedside, all in fire, with flames encircling face and hands, and sparks of fire seemingly darting from eyes and mouth!
For one terrible moment she was unable to utter a sound for utter, unspeakable horror. Then, with one wild piercing shriek, she buried her head under the clothes, to shut out the awful specter. Such a shriek as it was! No hyena, no screech-owl, no peacock ever uttered so ear-splitting throat-rending a scream as that. No word or words in the whole English language can give the faintest idea of that terrible screech. Before its last vibration had died away on the air, every sleeper in the establishment, including madame herself, had sprung out of bed, and stood pale and trembling, listening for a repetition of that awful cry. From twenty beds in the dormitory, twenty little sleepers sprung, and immediately began to make night hideous with small editions of Miss Sharpe’s shriek. Gathering strength from numbers, twenty voices rose an octave higher at every scream, and yell, after yell, in the shrillest soprano, pierced the air, although not one of them had the remotest idea of what it was all about.
At the first alarm, Firefly had flitted swiftly and fleetly across the room, jumped into bed, and seizing the sponge, gave her face and hands a vigorous rubbing; and now stood screaming with the rest, not to say considerably louder than any of them.
“Oh, Miss Sharpe, get up! the house is on fire! we’re all murdered in our beds!” yelled Pet, going over and catching that lady by the shoulder with a vigorous shake.
And “Oh, Miss Sharpe! Oh, Miss Sharpe! Get up. Oh-oh-oh!” shrieked the terrified children, clustering round the bed, and those who could springing in and shaking her.
With a disagreeable sense of being half crushed to death, Miss Sharpe was induced to remove her head from under the clothes, and cast a quick, terrified glance around. But the coast was clear—the awful specter was gone.
And now another noise met her ears—the coming footsteps of every one within the walls of the establishment, from Mrs. Moodie down to the little maid-of-all-work in the kitchen. In they rushed, armed with bedroom-candlesticks, rulers, ink-bottles, slate-frames, and various other warlike weapons, prepared to do battle to the last gasp.
And then it was: “Oh, what on earth is the matter?What on earth is the matter? What is the matter?” from every lip.
Miss Sharpe sprung out of bed and fled in terror to the side of Mrs. Moodie.
“Oh, Mrs. Moodie, it was awful! Oh, it was dreadful! With flames of fire coming out of its mouth, and all dressed in white. Oh, it was terrible! Ten feet high and all in flames!” shrieked Miss Sharpe, like one demented.
“Miss Sharpe, what in the name of Heaven is all this about?” asked the startled Mrs. Moodie, while the sixty “young ladies” clung together, white with mortal fear.
“Oh, Mrs. Moodie, I’ve seen it! It was frightful! all in flames of fire!” screamed the terrified Miss Sharpe.
“Seen it! seen what? Explain yourself, Miss Sharpe.”
“Oh, it was a ghost! a spirit! a demon! a fiend! I felt its blazing hands cold as ice on my face. Oh, good Heaven!” And again Miss Sharpe’s shriek at the recollection resounded through the room.
“Blazing hands cold as ice! Miss Sharpe, you are crazy! Calm yourself, I command you, and explain why we are all roused out of our beds at this hour of night by your shrieks,” said Mrs. Moodie, fixing her sharp eyes steadily upon her.
That look of rising anger brought Miss Sharpe to her senses. Wringing her hands, she cried out:
“Oh, I saw a ghost, Mrs. Moodie; an awful ghost! It came to my bedside all on fire, and—”
“A ghost! nonsense, Miss Sharpe!” broke out the now thoroughly enraged Mrs. Moodie, as she caught Miss Sharpe by the shoulder, and shook her soundly. “You have been dreaming; you have had the nightmare; you are crazy! A pretty thing, indeed! that the whole house is to be aroused and terrified in this way. I am ashamed of you, Miss Sharpe, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself to terrify those little children committed to your charge in this manner. I never heard of anything so abominable in my life before,” said the angry Mrs. Moodie.
“Oh, indeed, indeed I saw it! Oh, indeed, indeed I did!” protested Miss Sharpe, wringing her hands.
“Silence, Miss Sharpe! don’t make a fool of yourself! I’m surprised at you! a woman of your years giving way tosuch silly fancies. You saw it, indeed! A nice teacher you are to watch young children! Return to your beds, young ladies; and do you, Miss Sharpe, return to yours; and don’t let me ever hear anything more about ghosts, or I shall instantly dismiss you. Ghosts, indeed! you’re a downright fool, Miss Sharpe—that’s what you are!” exclaimed the exasperated lady.
But even the threat of dismissal could not totally overcome Miss Sharpe’s fears now, and catching hold of Mrs. Moodie’s night-robe as she was turning away, she wildly exclaimed:
“Oh, Mrs. Moodie, let us have a light in the room for this night at least! I cannot sleep a wink unless you do.”
“Miss Sharpe, hold your tongue! Do you see how you have frightened these children? Go to bed and mind your business. Young ladies, I think I told you before to go to your rooms—did I not?” said Mrs. Moodie, with still increasing anger.
Trembling and terrified, the girls scampered like frightened doves back to their nests; and Mrs. Moodie, outraged and indignant, tramped her way to the bed she had so lately vacated, inwardly vowing to discharge Miss Sharpe as soon as ever she could get another to take her place.
And then the children in the dormitory crept shivering into bed, and wrapped their heads up in the bedclothes, trembling at every sound. And Miss Sharpe, quivering in dread, shrunk into the smallest possible space in hers, and having twisted herself into a round ball under the quilts, tightly shut her eyes, and firmly resolved that nothing in the earth, or in the waters under the earth, should make her open those eyes again that night. And our wicked Firefly chuckling inwardly over the success of her plot, jumped into hers, thinking of the fun yet to come.
An hour passed. One o’clock struck; then two, before sleep began to visit the drowsy eyelids of the roused slumberers again. Having assured herself that they had really fallen asleep at last, Pet sat up in bed softly, opened the window an inch or two, screened from view—had any one been watching her, which there was not—by the white curtains of the bed.
Then lying composedly back on her pillow, she took hold of her string, and began pulling away.
Knock! knock! knock! knock! Rap! rap! rap! rap! rap!
The clamor was deafening; the music was awful at that silent hour of the night. Up and down the huge brass knocker thundered, waking a peal of echoes that rung and rung through the house.
Once again the house was aroused; once again every sleeper sprung out of bed, in terror, wonder, and consternation.
“Oh, holy saints! what is that? Oh, good heavens! what can that be at this time?” came simultaneously from every lip.
Knock! knock! knock! Rap! rap! rap! louder and louder still.
Every girl flitted from her room, and a universal rush was made for the apartments of Mrs. Moodie—all but the inmates of the dormitory. Miss Sharpe was too terrified to stir, and the children, following her lead, contented themselves with lying still, and renewing their screams where they had left them off an hour or so before.
Now Mrs. Moodie, half-distracted, rushed out, and encountered her forty terrified pupils in the hall.
“Oh, Mrs. Moodie! what has happened to-night? We will all be killed! Oh, listen to that!”
Knock! knock! knock! knock! knock! The clamor was deafening.
“We had better open the door, or they will break it down!” said Mrs. Moodie, her teeth chattering with terror.
“Send for Bridget; she is afraid of nothing!” suggested one of the trembling girls.
Two or three of the most courageous made a rush for the kitchen; and Bridget—a strapping nymph of five feet nine, and “stout according”—was routed out of bed, to storm the breech.
“Faith, thin, I’ll open the door, if it was the divil himself!” exclaimed Bridget, resolutely, as she grasped the poker, and, like the leader of a forlorn hope, turned the key in the door.
Back she swung it with a jerk. The knocking instantly ceased. Up flew the poker, and down it descended with a whack, upon—vacancy! There was no one there!
“The Lord be between us an’ harm!” exclaimed Bridget,recoiling back. “The divil a one’s there, good, bad, or indifferint!”
“They must have run away when you opened the door!” said Mrs. Moodie, in trembling tones. “There is certainly some one there!”
Bridget descended the steps, and looked up and down the street; but all was silent, lonely, and deserted—not a living creature was to be seen.
“Come in, and lock the door,” said the appalled Mrs. Moodie. “What in the name of Heaven could it have been?”
“Oh, the house is haunted!—the house is haunted!” came from the white lips of the young ladies. “Oh, Mrs. Moodie! do not ask us to go back to our rooms. We dare not. Let us stay with you until morning!”
“Very well,” said Mrs. Moodie, not sorry to have company; “come into my room. Bridget, bring lights.”
The door was unlocked. The frightened girls hustled, pale, and frightened, and shivering with superstition, awe and undefined apprehension, into Mrs. Moodie’s room; while that lady herself, crouching in their midst, was scarcely less terrified than they. Bridget brought in lights; and their coming renewed the courage the darkness had totally quenched.
“Now, Mistress Moodie, ma’am,” said Bridget, crossing her arms with grim determination, “I’m goin’ to sit at that door till mornin’, if its plazin’ to ye, and if thim blackguardly spalpeens comes knockin’ dacint people out av their beds ag’in, be this an’ that, I’ll I’ve the mark of me five fingers on thim, as sure as my name’s Biddy Malone!”
“Very well, Bridget,” said Mrs. Moodie. “It may be some wickedly-disposed person wishing to frighten the young ladies; and if it is, the heaviest penalties of the law shall be inflicted on them.”
Arming herself with the poker, Bridget softly turned the key in the door, and laid her hand on the lock, ready to open it at a second’s notice.
Scarcely had she taken her stand, when knock! knock! it began again; but the third rap was abruptly cut short by her violently jerking the door open, and lifting the poker for a blow that would have done honor to Donnybrook Fair. But a second time it fell, with a loud crack, upon—nothing!Far or near, not a soul was to be seen. Bridget was dismayed. For the first time in her life, a sensation of terror filled her brave Irish heart. Slamming the door violently to, she locked it again, and rushed with open eyes and mouth, into the room where the terror-stricken mistress and pupils sat terrified with fear.
“Faith, it’s the divil himself that’s at it! Lord, pardon me for namin’ him! Och, holy martyrs! look down on us this night for a poor, disconsolate set ov craythers, and the Cross of Christ be between us and all harm!”
And dropping a little bob of a courtesy, Bridget devoutly cut the sign of the cross on her forehead with her thumb.
Unable to speak or move with terror, mistress, pupils, and servants crouched together, longing and praying wildly for morning to come.
Again the knocking commenced, and continued, without intermission, for one whole mortal hour. Even the neighbors began to be alarmed at the unusual din, and windows were opened, and night-capped heads thrust out to see who it was who knocked so incessantly. Three o’clock struck, and then, Pet beginning to feel terribly sleepy, and quite satisfied with the fun she had had all night, cut the cord, and drew it up. The clamors, of course, instantly ceased; and five minutes after, Firefly, the wicked cause of all this trouble, was peacefully sleeping.
But no other eye in the house was destined to close that night—or rather, morning. Huddled together below, the frightened flock waited for the first glimpse of morning sunlight, thinking all the while that never was there a night so long as that. Up in the children’s dormitory, all—from Miss Sharpe downward—lay in a cold perspiration of dread, trembling to stay where they were, yet not daring to get up and join their companions below.
“I’ll never stay another night in this dreadful place if I only live to see morning!” was the inward exclamation of every teacher and pupil who could by any means leave.
And so, in sleepless watchfulness, the dark, silent hours of morning wore on; and the first bright ray of another day’s sunlight streaming in through the windows, never beheld an assemblage of paler or more terrified faces than were gathered together in the establishment of Mrs. Moodie.
“And her brow cleaned, but not her dauntless eye;The wind was down, but still the sea ran high.”—Don Juan.
Accustomed to early rising from her infancy, the first beam of morning sunshine found Pet out of bed, and dressed.
The other girls, with Miss Sharpe, were up, too, hastily throwing on their clothes, and looking pale, haggard and worn, from the previous night’s excitement and want of sleep.
Quivering with the remembrance of last night’s frolic, and the terror and consternation that would follow it to-day, Pet stood before the mirror bathing her hands and face, and curling her short, boyish, black ringlets.
The others did not wait for this, but as soon as they were dressed made a grand rush for the lower rooms, where they knew the remainder of the household were assembled. And here they found them, still in their night-robes just beginning to find their tongues, and venturing to talk over the exciting events of the previous night. Petronilla, with her keen sense of the ludicrous, had much ado to keep from laughing outright at their wild eyes and affrighted whispers, but drawing her face down to the length of the rest, she talked away as volubly as any of them of her terror and wonder, protesting she would write to her papa to take her home, for that she wasn’t accustomed to living in haunted houses. At last, becoming aware of theirdeshabille, the young ladies decamped up-stairs to don more becoming garments, and talk over, in the privacy of their own apartments, the ghost and the mysterious rapping.
Mrs. Moodie, recovering her presence of mind and dignity, with the coming of daylight, resolved to lose no time in having the matter fully investigated. Her first act was tohave the house searched from top to bottom, and the young ladies willingly engaging in the search, every corner, cranny and crevice, from attic to cellar, was thoroughly examined. Had a needle been lost it must have been found, but no trace of last night’s visitor could be discovered.
“Oh, it’s no use looking; it was a ghost!” exclaimed Miss Sharpe.
“Oh, yes, it was a ghost! It must have been a ghost!” echoed all the young ladies simultaneously.
“But ghosts always come in though a key-hole—at least the ghosts up our way do,” said Pet; “so where was the use of its knocking and making such a fuss last night.”
No one felt themselves qualified to answer the questions, so the hunt was given over, and the hunters, in much disorder, were told they might amuse themselves in the play-ground that morning, instead of reciting, as usual. The teachers did not feel themselves able to pursue their customary avocations until some light had been thrown upon the mystery.
Then Mrs. Moodie put on her bonnet and shawl, and went out without any definite object in view unless it was to see if the ghost had left any clue to its whereabouts on the street. As a very natural consequence, her eye turned upon the huge brass knocker that had been so instrumental in last night’s din; and from it, to her surprise, she beheld a long, stout cord dangling. Petronilla, of course, in cutting the string, could not reach down to sever it, and a half-yard or so still waved in triumph in the morning air.
Mrs. Moodie, though a fine lady, was sharp and “wide awake,” and in this cord she perceived some clue to the affair of the previous night. As she still gazed on it in the same way as a detective might, at the evidence of some secret crime, the young girl who had given Pet the cord passed through the hall and paused to look at the open door which Mrs. Moodie was so intently surveying. Her eye fell on the cord; she started, took a step forward, looking puzzled and surprised.
“It was no spirit, you see, that was rapping last night, Miss Hughes,” said Mrs. Moodie, sharply; “this cord has had something to do with it.”
“Why, that cord is mine—or ratherwas,” said the younglady, examining it; “we used to use it in our room for hanging pocket-handkerchiefs and collars to dry on.”
“Yours, Miss Hughes,” said Mrs. Moodie, facing round with an angry light rising in her eyes.
“Itwasmine, madam; I gave it last evening to the new pupil, Miss Lawless.”
“To Miss Lawless?”
“Yes, madam, when we were in the dormitory last night, she asked me for a string, and I brought her this, having no other; she has cut it, I see.”
“What did Miss Lawless want of it—do you know?”
“I do not know; she did not say; it isverystrange how it can have got here.”
A new light suddenly flashed through the mind of Mrs. Moodie. She recollected what Pet’s father had told her of the mischief-loving propensities of that young lady. What if all her meekness and docility had been assumed! She glanced up at the window beside Pet’s bed, and instantaneously the whole truth dawned upon her.
And then a change most wonderful to see came over the features of Mrs. Moodie. Dark and stern, and determined, she turned from the door, untied the cord, and marched directly into the house.
“Miss Hughes,” she said, curtly, “go and tell all the teachers and pupils to assemble in the school-room at once. I think I have found out the origin of the disturbance now.”
Wondering and perplexed, Miss Hughes went and delivered her message; and on fire with eager curiosity, a universal rush was made for theclasse, and in silent expectation they waited for the coming of Mrs. Moodie.
They had not long to wait. With a hard, metallic tramp, that announced her state of mind, that lady rustled in, and in ominous silence took her seat, motioning the others to resume theirs with a wave of her hand.
Every eye was bent upon her in silent awe, as they noticed her stiff, rigid sternness. Her eye passed over the rest, and like a hound scenting his prey, fixed itself piercingly on Pet.
“Miss Lawless,” she said, in a stern, measured tone, “come here.”“Stars and stripes!” ejaculated Pet, inwardly, as she rose to obey; “can she have found me out so soon? Oh, Pet Lawless, maybe you ain’t in for it now!”
All eyes were now turned in silent amazement on Pet. Slowly Mrs. Moodie thrust her hand in her pocket, still sternly transfixing Pet with her eyes, and drew out—a piece of cord!
At the sight, all Pet’s doubts were removed; she was discovered. Then all personal apprehensions vanished, her perverse spirit rose, and bold, dauntless and daring she stood before her stern judge—her straight, lithe form defiantly erect, her malicious black eyes dancing with fun.
“Miss Lawless, do you know anything of this?” demanded Mrs. Moodie, holding it up.
“Slightly acquainted,” said Pet; “saw it last night for the first time.”
“Will you be kind enough to state for what purpose you borrowed it?”
“Yes’m, to have some fun with.”
“Fun!pray be a little more explicit, Miss Lawless. Was it you that tied it to the door, last night?”
“Yes’m.”
“And by that means you knocked at the door, and created all the alarm and confusion that so terrified us all,” said Mrs. Moodie with a rapidly darkening brow.
“Yes’m,” said Pet, loudly, nothing daunted.
A low murmur of surprise and horror, at this atrocious confession ran round the room.
“And what was your design in thus throwing the household into terror and consternation, Miss Lawless?”
“I told you before—just for fun,” said Pet, coolly.
Mrs. Moodie compressed her lips, and though her sallow face was dark with suppressed anger, she remained outwardly calm. Low murmurs of amazement, anger and indignation ran through the room; but Pet stood upright, bold and defiant before them all, as though she had done nothing whatever to be ashamed of.
“Perhaps, then, since you are so fond of practical jokes, you were the ghost Miss Sharpe saw, likewise,” said Mrs. Moodie.
“Yes, I was,” said Pet, darting a flashing glance at thatlady, who sat listening, with hand and eyes uplifted in horror.
“No, she wasn’t,” said Miss Sharpe; “the one I saw was all on fire.”
“Silence, Miss Sharpe! leave the matter to me,” said Mrs. Moodie, sternly. Then turning to Pet: “Since you are so candid, Miss Lawless, will you inform me in what manner you rendered yourself so frightful an object?”
“Yes, it was easy enough,” said Pet. “I just rubbed some phosphureted ether on my hands and face. It shone in the dark and scaredher; and that was all I wanted.”
A profound silence for one moment reigned throughout the room. Every one sat, overwhelmed, looking at each other as though unable to credit what they heard.
“And what evil motive had you in terrifying us so?” resumed Mrs. Moodie, after a pause.
“I hadn’t any evil motive. I just wanted fun, I tell you. Papa sent me here, and I didn’t want to come, but I had to; so, as it was horrid dull here, I thought I’d just amuse myself scaring you all, and I can’t see where was the harm either! I’ve always been used to do as I like, and this ain’t no circumstance to what’s to come next!” And Pet’s flashing eyes blazed open defiance.
Mrs. Moodie rose from her seat, her sallow complexion almost white with anger, her sharp eyes bright with an angry light.
“Some one else will have a voice in this matter, Miss Lawless. Had I been aware of the sort of girl you were, rest assured that, much as I respect your father, you should never have entered here. In all my experience it has never been my misfortune to encounter so much depravity in one so young. I shall instantly write to your father to come and take you home, for no inducement could persuade me to allow you to become a member of this establishment. You will consider yourself expelled, Miss Lawless, and must leave the house as soon as your father can come to take you home.”
“Well, I’m sure I’m glad of it,” said Pet, impatiently; “for of all the stupid old holes I ever saw, this is the worst! I wouldn’t be paid to stay here—no, not if you were to make me President to-morrow for it.”
“No such inducement is likely to be offered, Miss Lawless. Your presence here, I can assure you, is not coveted. Miss Sharpe, take this young lady to one of the spare rooms, and remain there to watch her until her father comes and removes her. Young ladies, you will now resume your studies as usual.”
And with a frigid bow, Mrs. Moodie swept from the room, leaving all behind her lost in a maze of wonder and indignation.
Miss Sharpe, with her little eyes glistening, approached and took Pet by the shoulder, to lead her from the room, but Pet angrily jerked herself free from her hated touch, and exclaimed:
“Let me alone! I can walk without your help. Go ahead and I’ll follow, but keep your hands to yourself.”
Miss Sharpe, finding herself foiled even in the moment of victory, walked sullenly on, and Pet, with head up and elbows squared, tripped after her to the solitude of “one of the spare rooms,” where every amusement was debarred her but that of making faces at Miss Sharpe.
An hour after, a long epistle, detailing in glowing colors Pet’s wicked actions of the night before, was dispatched by Mrs. Moodie to Judge Lawless.
The result of it was, that the evening of the second day after, that gentleman arrived, nearly beside himself with rage.
Then Mrs. Moodie recapitulated the whole affair, and ended by protesting that no amount of money could prevail upon her to keep so vicious a child in her school another day. All her pupils would become depraved by her example; and the result would be, their parents would take them home, and thus she would lose her school. Judge Lawless haughtily replied she need be under no apprehension, for he would instantly take his daughter home.
Pet was accordingly dressed, her baggage packed up, and brought down to her father.
With all her boldness she yielded for a moment as she met his eye. But without one single word of comment, he motioned her to precede him into the carriage; and in silence they started.
During the whole journey home, the judge never condescended to open his mouth or address her a single word.Pet, just as well pleased to be left to herself, leaned back in the carriage to meditate new mischief when she would get home.
But Miss Petronilla Lawless soon found she was not quite so much her own mistress as she thought.
The evening of the second day brought them to Judestown. As they passed the village, entered the forest road, and came within sight of old Barrens Cottage, Pet began to think of Ray and wonder how he was, and if it would be safe to ask her father to let her go in and see.
One glance at that gentleman’s face, however, convinced her that it would not be safe, and that prudence was by far the safest plan just then. Hoping Erminie might be at the door as she passed, she thrust her head out of the carriage window, when her father silently caught her by the shoulder, pulled her back with no gentle hand, and shut down the blind.
Then the very demon of defiance sprung into the eyes of the elf; and facing round, she was about to begin a harangue more spirited then respectful; but something in the cold, stern, steely eye bent on her quenched the indignant light in her own and she sulkily relapsed into silence, thinking a “dumb devil” would be more agreeable to her father just then than a talking one.
Ranty was out on the veranda, walking up and down with his hands in his pockets and whistling “Yankee Doodle.” Pet favored him with a nod as she tripped into the house, while Ranty’s eyes grew as large as two full moons in his amazement. Darting after her, he caught her by the arm as she was entering the door and exclaimed:
“I say, Pet; what in the world brings you home again? I thought you were gone to school!”
“So I was.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Finished my education. Told you I would in a week,” said Pet, with a nod.
“Randolph, go off and mind your business, sir,” exclaimed his father, sternly. “Here—this way,you.”
So saying he caught Pet by the shoulder, and unceremoniously drew her after him, upstairs into the library. Then shutting the door, he threw himself into his arm-chair,and folding his arms across his chest, favored Pet with an awful look.
Miss Lawless, standing erect before him, bore this appalling stare without blushing.
“Well, and what do you think of yourself now, Miss Petronilla Lawless?” was the first question he deigned to ask her since their meeting.
“Just what I did before,” said Pet, nothing daunted.
“And what may that be, pray?” said her father, with an icy sneer.
“Why, that I’m a real smart little girl, and can keep my word like a man! I said I’d finish my education and be back in a week, and—here I am.”
A dark frown settled on the brow of the judge, as he listened to this audacious reply; but, maintaining an outer semblance of calmness, he asked:
“And how have you determined to spend your time for the future, Miss Lawless?”
“Just as I did before—riding round and visiting my friends.”
A chilling smile settled on the lips of the judge.
“So that is your intention, is it? Well, now hearmine. Since you will neither stay at school nor behave yourself as a young lady should when at home, I shall sell your pony and procure you a tutor who will be your teacher and guard at the same time. Whenever you move from the house, either he or I will accompany you; and I shall take proper steps to prevent your visiting any of those you call your friends. You will find, Miss Lawless, I am not to be disobeyed with impunity in the future. Perhaps, after a time, if I find you docile and attentive to my orders, I may forget your past misconduct and restore you some of your privileges again. This, however, will entirely depend on the manner in which you conduct yourself. I have already a gentleman in view who will undertake the office of tutor, and until he comes I shall have you locked in your room and your meals brought up to you. Not a word, Miss Lawless. I have borne with your impertinence too long, and you will now find I can adopt a different course. Solitude will cool your blood, I trust, and bring you to your senses.”
So saying, the judge calmly arose, rung the bell and then reseated himself.
You should have seen how Pet stormed and raved, and scolded, then, vowing she would kill herself; she would jump out of the window; she would set the house afire and burn them all in their beds; she would have no tutor; she would murder him if he came.
The judge listened to all this with the most perfect indifference, until the entrance of a negress put an end to the scene.
“Take Miss Petronilla up-stairs to the attic, and lock her in,” was the judge’s command.
But he soon found this was easier said than done; for, seizing a small chair, Pet brandished it over her head, and threatened instant annihilation to the first who would come near her.
The judge arose, and with a sudden snatch caught hold of it. Pet clung to it like a hero, scolding and vociferating at the top of her lungs still; but she was as a fly in her father’s grasp, and she was speedily disarmed and pinned.
“I will bring her up myself. Stand out of the way, Dele,” said the judge.
Holding her firmly, the judge drew her with him up-stairs, opened the attic door, thrust her in, locked it, and left Miss Pet in solitude and darkness, and to her own reflections.
There was no window in the attic, so her threat of casting herself from it went for naught. As for her other threats, the judge paid about as much attention to them as he would to the buzzing of a fly on the window. He then mounted his horse, and rode off having given orders that Miss Petronilla’s meals should be regularly brought to her, but on no condition should she be allowed to get out.
Pet, for once fairly conquered, sat down, determined to do something desperate; and in this frame of mind she was discovered by Ranty, who, hearing of her melancholy fate, came up-stairs and took his station outside the door.
“Hillo, Pet!” he began.
“Hillo, yourself,” replied Pet, sulkily.
“You’re locked up—ain’t you?” went on Ranty.
“Where’s your eyes? Can’t you see I am?” snapped Pet.
“Well, you know it serves you right,” said Ranty, by way of consolation, as he took out a jack-knife and began to whittle.
“Oh! if I was only out at him,” muttered Pet, between her teeth.
“You haven’t seen Erminie since you came home, I suppose,” said Ranty.
“No, I haven’t! You know very well I haven’t,” said Pet, crossly. “How’s Ray?”
“Oh, he’s first-rate—up and about. His wound didn’t amount to much. I’m going over there now; got any message to send?”
“No; only to bid them good-by. I never expect to see any of them again,” said Pet, with a deep groan.
“Why, where are you going?” asked Ranty, in surprise.
“To commit suicide. Do you know if choking hurts much, Ranty?”
“Can’t say—never tried it. If it’s an easy death, just let me know when you’ve done it. I’m off.” And Ranty decamped, whistling; and Pet was left locked up in the garret.