“Ain’t there any way of gettin’ into that house?” she asked.  “It acts as if ‘twas goin’ to storm hard as ever and this shed ain’t the most—­what did you call it?—­sociable place in creation, in spite of the lantern.  If we could only get inside that house—­”

Winnie S. interrupted.  They could not see him, but there was a queer note in his voice.

“Get inside!” he repeated.  “Get into that house this time of night!  Well—­well, maybe you could, but I wouldn’t do it, not for nothin’.  You better wait in the shed.  I’ll be back soon as ever I can.”

They heard him splashing along the road.  Then a gust of wind and a torrent of rain beating upon the leaky roof drowned all other sounds.  Emily turned to her companion.

“Auntie,” she said, “if you and I were superstitious we might think all this, all that we’ve been through, was what people call a sign, a warning.  That is what ever so many South Middleboro people would say.”

“Humph! if I believed in signs I’d have noticed the weather signs afore we started.  Those are all the ‘signs’ I believe in and I ought to have known better than to risk comin’ when it looked so threatenin’.  I can’t forgive myself for that.  However, we did come, and here we are—­wherever ‘here’ is.  Now what in the world did that man mean by sayin’ we better not try to get into that house?  I don’t care what he meant.  Give me that lantern.”

“Auntie, where are you going?”

“I’m goin’ to take an observation of those windows.  Nine chances to one they ain’t all locked, and if there’s one open you and I can crawl into it.  I wish we could boost the horse in, too, poor thing, but self-preservation is the first law of nature and if he’s liable to perish it’s no reason we should.  I’m goin’ to get into that house if such a thing’s possible.”

“But, Auntie—­”

“Don’t say another word.  I’m responsible for your bein’ here this night, Emily Howes.  You wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t coaxed you into it.  And you shan’t die of pneumonia or—­or drownin’ if I can help it.  I’m goin’ to have a look at those doors and windows.  Don’t be scared.  I’ll be back in a jiffy.  Goodness me, what a puddle!  Well, if you hear me holler you’ll know I’m goin’ under for the third time, so come quick.  Here goes!”

Lantern in hand, she splashed out into the wet, windy darkness.

CHAPTER II

Miss Howes, left to share with General Jackson the “sociability” of the shed, watched that lantern with faint hope and strong anxiety.  She saw it bobbing like a gigantic firefly about the walls of the house, stopping here and there and then hurrying on.  Soon it passed around the further corner and disappeared altogether.  The wind howled, the rain poured, General Jackson stamped and splashed, and Emily shivered.

At last, just as the watcher had begun to think some serious accident had happened to her courageous relative and was considering starting on a relief expedition, the lantern reappeared.