_A NIGHT OF IT._
SCARCELY was she there when she repented that she had come, until she
found out what became of the mouse; but she was too much offended with
Ruth to go back, and with some difficulty succeeded in taking off the
rest of her clothes without help, tears slowly dropping from her eyes
the while.
Poor Carrie! how miserable she did feel; and to her troubled little
mind there was no way out of her difficulties.
She would have confessed all, if there had seemed to be any one to
confess to; but, remembering Nellie's charge to Daisy and herself that
morning, it did not seem wise or right to tell mamma that there were
mice in the house when she might possibly escape the knowledge; she
was afraid to tell her father, for all Mr. Ransom's children stood a
good deal in awe of him; and she did not feel as if there would be much
satisfaction or relief in telling Nellie. Nellie could not know how to
advise her or tell her what to do. And yet--perhaps she could. Nellie
was such a wise, thoughtful, well-judging little girl.
Perhaps Carrie would not have put her thoughts into just such words;
but this was the feeling in her heart at this moment, and it was no
more than justice to Nellie. She knew she could depend on Nellie's
sympathy, however much shocked her sister might be at her naughtiness,
and she half believed that she could help her. How she wished now that
she had not been so pettish and disagreeable to her!
"Nellie wasn't cross at all, it was old me that was cross and hateful
and horrid; and I have been ever since I took the mice," she said to
herself, the tears rolling over her cheeks. "I wish she'd come up, and
I'd tell her I'm sorry; and if she asks me what's the matter, I b'lieve
I've a good mind to tell her. Oh dear! I wish I'd never seen those
mice. S'pose that one should run out of the nursery into mamma's room.
I wish the door was shut between her room and the nursery."
Then when she knelt down to say her prayers, and came to the words of
our Lord's Prayer, "Lead us not into temptation," she remembered how
Daisy had asked her what she would do if she "had a temptation;" and
she buried her face in the bed-clothes as if she wished to shut out the
remorseful recollection of how she had acted yesterday in that moment
of temptation; and more and more bitter became her self-reproaches as
she thought how sweetly Daisy had acted in the matter of the white
mice. Yes: Daisy had shown true love and tenderness for her mother; but
how far had she been from doing the same?
Perhaps never in all her little life had Carrie sent heavenward as true
and sincere a prayer as that she added to-night to her usual petitions:
"And lead me out of this temptation, and show me what to do, O God!"
Then when she was, with considerable trouble to herself, all ready for
bed, she lay down, but not without another anxious glance at the door
between her mother's room and the nursery. If she could but have that
door closed!
Having soothed the baby to sleep once more, Ruth brought her into her
mother's room, and put her into the cradle. This done, she passed on
into Carrie's room to see that all was right there, and the little
girl safely in bed. She did not speak,--perhaps she thought Carrie was
already asleep,--but moved quietly around, picking up the articles of
dress which her little charge had left strewn about, arranging the
windows and doors properly, and turning down the light.
Then she went away.
And now to have the door closed between her mother's room and the
closet which led into the nursery became the great desire of Carrie's
mind as she lay in her little bed,--closed so that the mouse should not
find its way through.
She did not dream that mousie had done that already, and hoped to be
able to close the door this way without attracting Ruth's attention.
Slipping from her bed, she went softly, so that Ruth might not hear
her, over her own floor, and through her mother's room to the closet
door, and stretching out her hand was about to push it to, when Ruth
caught sight of her through the closet door.
"What's the matter, child? What do you want?" she asked in much
surprise, coming forward.
"I want this door shut, and I'm going to have it, too," said Carrie,
preparing for battle at once, for she saw that Ruth would object.
"Well, what whim has taken you now?" said Ruth, pushing back the door.
"Indeed, and you can't have it shut till your mother comes up. How
would I hear the baby if it cries?"
Carrie persisted in her purpose. Ruth would have been firm, but finding
the child would not yield, and fearing to wake the baby once more if an
uproar were raised, she let her take her way, and immediately went down
with a complaint to Mrs. Ransom.
Papa heard as well as mamma, and took the matter into his own hands;
and scarcely had Carrie climbed into bed again, glorying, partly in
having attained her purpose, partly in the supposed victory over Ruth,
when papa appeared, and, with a few stern words to the wilful little
girl, set it open again, forbidding her to touch it, and leaving her in
a more unhappy state of mind than ever.
She lay there and cried till Nellie came up; Johnny accompanying her,
and each carrying a bird. No hooks were in readiness for hanging the
cages; and it was decided that, for to-night, they should be placed
upon chairs, Nellie's bird by her side of the bed, Carrie's by hers.
Carrie, whose heart and conscience were so uneasy, was very wakeful;
and, long after Nellie was asleep, she lay tossing restlessly from side
to side. Even after mamma came up to her room, she could not go to
sleep for a long while.
In the night, far into the night it seemed to her that it must be, she
was wakened by a sound at her side,--a rustling, scratching sound.
What could it be? Carrie was not so foolish as to be afraid of the
dark, indeed she was rather a brave child; but now she felt as if she
would have given any thing to have had a light in the room, to see what
made that strange sound.
She bore it as long as she could, then woke Nellie.
"What can it be, Nellie?" she whispered, as Nellie listened.
"I don't know: I'm afraid there's somebody here," said Nellie, in the
same tone, but very much alarmed.
"What shall we do?" said Carrie, clinging to her sister.
"'Thou shalt not steal,' 'Thou God seest me,' 'The way of transgressors
is hard,' if you are a robber," said Nellie, raising her voice as she
addressed the supposed intruder with all the Scripture texts she could
muster for the occasion, and which might be imagined to influence him.
No answer, but the rustling ceased for a moment, then began again; and
it was more than the children could bear.
"Papa! papa!" shrieked Nellie, "there's some one in our room! Please
come, do come, papa!" And Carrie joined her cries to her sister's.
Papa heard, and came; and so did mamma, very much startled.
"There's a noise, a robber, here, by my bed!" exclaimed Carrie all in a
flutter, though the noise had again ceased. Papa struck a light, there
was a faint rustle, a sound of some small body jumping or falling from
a height, and Mr. Ransom exclaimed,--
"A mouse! Nothing but a mouse in the bird's cage!"
If there had been a veritable robber there, doubtless Mrs. Ransom would
have stayed to confront him, and defend her children; but at the sound
of "a mouse," a harmless little mouse, she turned about, and ran back
to her own room, closing the door in no small haste. If the children
had not felt too much sympathy for her, they could have laughed to see
how she rushed away.
But Carrie did not feel like laughing, you may be sure, relieved though
she might have been to find that it was nothing worse than a mouse that
had caused her own and Nellie's alarm. I do not know but that she would
almost have preferred the "robber," or some wild monster, now that papa
was there to defend them, to the pretty, innocent little creature which
had been the real cause of the disturbance.
Mr. Ransom hunted about for the mouse, but all in vain: he had hidden
himself somewhere quite safely and was not to be found. The bird-cages
were put upon the mantel-piece where he could not reach them again,
for mousie had found the bird-seed an excellent supper, and Mr. Ransom
thought he might return to his repast.
Return he did in search of it, as soon as papa had gone and the room
was quiet once more; but this time the children knew what it was, and
although, when he found his supper placed beyond his reach, he made
considerable disturbance, they were not frightened. But they found it
impossible to sleep, such a noise did he make, tearing about over the
straw matting which covered the floor, nibbling now at this, now at
that, and altogether making himself as much of a nuisance as only a
mouse in one's bed-room at night can do.
At last he was quiet, and the two weary children were just sinking off
to sleep, when Nellie started up with,--
"Carrie! I do believe that mouse is in the bed!"
This was too much, not to be borne by any one, however much they might
like mice; and both Nellie and Carrie were speedily out of bed, the
former hastily turning up the light which papa had left burning for
their comfort.
Carrie was about to run to the door and call papa to come, but Nellie
stopped her.
"Don't, Carrie," she said: "it will just frighten mamma again. Let's
see if we can't find him. I'm not afraid of him, are you? Only, I don't
like to have him in the bed."
Rather enjoying the fun, Nellie pulled off the covers and pillows, and
even, exerting all her little strength, contrived to turn up one end of
the mattress; but this, even with Carrie's help, she found hard work,
and, nothing being discovered of the little nuisance, they were content
to believe that Nellie had been mistaken, to put on the bed-clothes as
well as they could, and lie down again.
But Carrie did not enjoy all this, if Nellie did. At another time
she, too, might have thought that it was "fun" to have such a good
and sufficient excuse for being up and busy when the clock was
striking--could it be?--yes, it was twelve o'clock, midnight! and she
and Nellie frisking there about the room, as wide awake as if it were
noon.
But there was a weight on Carrie's mind, she felt too guilty to enjoy
the novelty, and she was almost vexed at Nellie's glee over it. Oh
dear! how she did wish that she had never seen the mice, that "such
things as mice had never been made."
And when at last she fell into a troubled slumber, for they heard
nothing more of mousie, it was not the calm, peaceful sleep of her
sister who lay beside her, but filled with uncomfortable dreams, and
many a start and moan.
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