Afraid in the dark! Not she; but this was some ointment for that
unconscious thrust Miss Pray had given.
I walked home with her. Coming back, there was ever a slight crackling
in the bushes and stealthy breathing behind me. It was the lad, Jimmy
Kirtland, sent by Vesty surreptitiously to see that I arrived safely at
Miss Pray's.
I regarded sacredly this innocent device, but, arrived in the house, I
heard Jimmy outside pleading cautiously to Miss Pray through the window
that he was afraid to go back alone.
Miss Pray tried to arouse one of her two orphans--her help: for answer
they screamed aloud, sinking back into a sleep deep with snores of
utter repose.
"Sh! sh!" she said. "I'll go home with you, Jimmy."
I had not taken off my great-coat. I went out of my room and followed
them, unseen. In sight of the Kirtland home-light Jimmy ran in, glad.
Miss Pray turned to face the darkness alone; she went a few paces,
stopped, hesitated, and began to weep softly.
"I am here to walk home with you, Miss Pray," I said. "Come; I can see
very well in the dark."
"Thank God!" said she, and came toward me with a little bound; for it
seemed that it did not make any difference to her in this emergency
that I did not know how to spell.