"They won't
kill me; perhaps they'll give me a bit of bread for one of my
baskets. They won't call the p'lice so late as this."
Dick looked up at her and obediently followed. It was all one to him
where he went. He had no hopes and no fears, he was better off than
poor Huldah in that respect, but he roused to renewed interest and
expectation when his little mistress stopped before a cottage, and
walking timidly up the garden, knocked at the front door.
CHAPTER II.
A NIGHT SCARE.
Silence! Seconds passed, to Huldah they seemed endless, her heart,
which at first had beat furiously, quieted down until it seemed
scarcely to beat at all. Save for the good-night calls of the birds,
and the sad mooing of a cow in a field not far away, the silence
remained unbroken.
"Perhaps I didn't knock loud enough," thought Huldah, "or whoever's
inside may be gone to sleep."
If her plight had been less desperate, she would never have had the
courage to knock again, but she felt ill and exhausted and
frightened, and something seemed to tell her that here she might find
help. So, after waiting a little longer, she screwed up her courage
again, and rapped once more, this time more loudly; and this time, at
any rate, her knock called forth response. There were sounds of
hasty shuffling steps across the floor, and then a voice, old and
evidently trembling, called through the door, "Who is there?"
Huldah was puzzled how to answer.
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