CHAPTER XII THE SOMNAMBULIST The day after the dance passed rather quietly, as the young people were tired and preferred lounging upon the piazzas or under the trees to any great exertion. The costumes taken from the cedar chest had been carefully folded and returned to it, ready for the next time, Amy said. The folding and putting away had fallen to Sherry, who took the dresses and jewelry to the attic, laying them carefully in the chest and pausing a moment to open what proved to be the family Bible of Eli Crosby, and which was near the bottom. “Oh, I wish I could have this,” she thought, and was about to examine it further when Amy came up the stairs, and she closed the book hastily, noticing, as she did so, that it contained two or three loose papers. “Some business papers of grandfather Crosby’s, I dare say,” she thought, and all day her mind was upon the cedar chest and its contents. As the afternoon drew to a close a thunder storm came up and the night shut in hot and sultry. The young people were tired, and after a few ineffectual efforts to enjoy themselves, as Alex. wished them to do, they retired to their rooms, and at a very early hour quiet had settled upon the house. Alex. was sleeping soundly when there came a knock upon his door and Amy’s voice called to him, “Alex., Alex., are you awake?” “Yes,—no. What is it? Is the house on fire?” he answered drowsily; and Amy continued in a whisper, “Dress you and come quick. There’s some one in the attic.” “Nonsense!” Alex. said, springing up and soon joining his sister, who explained that she and Ruth had heard footsteps going up the stairs and then had heard them overhead. They could not be mistaken. There was some one in the garret, probably the same who had moved the chest,—a burglar, perhaps, and she advised Alex. to bring his revolver or call Charley Reeves. “Nonsense!” he said again, going with his sister and Ruth to the hall, at the end of which were the attic stairs, where they stopped to listen. There certainly was some one in the attic moving cautiously, when he moved at all, and Alex. at once started to go up. But Amy held him back. “Don’t, don’t,” she whispered. “You might get hurt. Whoever is there must come down. We can sit here and wait. You have your revolver?” “Revolver. No,” Alex. answered, sitting where Amy bade him sit on a bench against the wall, which here made a little curve or alcove, so that while they could see distinctly any one coming down the stairs they could not be seen. “There, he is coming,” Amy and Ruth both exclaimed, clutching Alex. and holding their breath as footfalls were heard upon the stairs and a glimmer of a light began to show itself in the darkness of the hall.