"Aha!--right you are, Mrs. Hess." This was the initial of Steptoe. He went on with a sly triumphant wrinkling of his face, that mixed oddly with the tremor of eye and lip that is part of this disease. "No, he ain't in that bed. But I can tell yer where he is--he's under it! That's where Jim is. I seen his eye, plain to see!..." "Jim's eye, ye silly! Come to bed, and sleep your drink off. Ye born fool! Jim's eye!" "Ah!--Jim's eye. The one he opens at night. He's under-'anded and sly--sees a rare lot more than he'll put a name to! Why, I seen it, God damn you!"--with a sudden revival of ferocity--"I _seen_ it, I tell you, there under that there bed." Then Lizarann knew that he was mad. Of course, she knew nothing of _delirium tremens_, but she knew quite well the state often described as "mad drunk," and that her uncle when so affected always became violent; although since that occurrence three months since, fear of Jim had been a wholesome check. Oh, if Daddy were only here!--so thought Lizarann, as she stood in the doorway with her teeth chattering, and literally sick with terror. "I tell you I _seen_ it, and I'll tell you some more. Only just you stand still. I'm a going for to cut it out, by Goard! Only you wait till I get my * * * knife.... It's round the * * * corner against the window...." These were the last articulate words Lizarann heard, as her aunt followed their speaker into the front room. Then the voices of both in confusion--his raving, hers concealing apprehension badly under an attempt at command. This for a while; then a rapid crescendo of terror ending in a shriek, and an appeal to Heaven-knows-who to get the Police. And Lizarann--not seven yet!--had to make up her mind what to do. CHAPTER XIII HOW THE RECTOR OF ROYD TOOK A WRONG TURNING, AND PICKED UP LIZARANN IN THE SNOW. MR. STEPTOE'S KNIFE, AND HOW LIZARANN MADE HIM LEAVE HOLD OF IT. HOW AUNTIE STINGY WAS HANDY IN CASE OF ANYTHING, AND UNCLE BOB WENT TO SLEEP ON A SECOND-HAND SOFA