"Good Heavens!" gasped the captain, "I never dreamed that was you,
Dinah."
"But I knowed it war _you_. How is you gettin' 'long?"
"I'm all right, but where is your mistress?"
"Downsta'rs tending to tings."
"But--but do you know there's an Indian in the house?"
"I reckons so; we didn't know it at fust, but we found it out putty soon
after he arrove; why didn't you told us?"
"I tried to do so, but was afraid you wouldn't hear my voice."
"We heerd you say somefin, but couldn't quite make out what it was."
"But what of the Indian?" asked the captain, who was now at the scuttle
with his hand on the door.
"He am all right; and if you don't t'ink so, jes' come down and see for
you'self."
Dinah stepped out of the way, and her master lost no time in descending
through the opening into the dark room below.
"Fasten the door, for there may be more of them trying to enter."
"I doesn't t'ink so," was the confident reply.
Nevertheless, Dinah reached up and fastened the hook in place, making it
as secure as before.
"Is your mistress safe?" asked Captain Shirril, the moment he was within
the apartment.
"Didn't I jes' tole you she was? Does you t'ink I would try to deceibe
you?"
"But tell me how it is; this strikes me as the strangest part of the
whole business."
Standing thus, in the stillness and gloom of the upper room, the servant
related in her characteristic way the extraordinary experience of
herself and mistress with the dusky intruder.
As she had said, the warning which the captain shouted from the roof was
heard by them, but the words were not understood.
Mrs. Shirril, however, was keen-witted enough to suspect the truth. The
muffled tones showed that her husband was on the roof, while the noise
of the body dropping upon the chair proved that someone had entered by
that means. That being the case, the stranger of necessity must be a
foe, against whose evil intentions they must prepare themselves without
delay.
"One of the Indians has dropped through the scuttle," said the startled
lady.
"Anoder ob dem warmints has comed into my room, eh?" muttered the
angered servant; "I'll sarve him wuss dan the oder one."
"You will not find the task so easy; keep at my side, make no noise, and
don't stir till I tell you."
By this time, the embers on the hearth were so low that they gave out
only a faint illumination, which extended but a foot or two into the
room. The women had kept their places near the door, where, as will be
remembered, they noticed a pressure, as if someone was trying to shove
it open.
Light-footed as was the Comanche, his weight was too great, and his
descent too sudden, for him to keep the knowledge from the women
below-stairs. They stepped softly away from the door, and into the
denser gloom, where they were unable to see each other, although their
persons touched. In this attitude, they could do nothing for a time but
listen with rapidly beating hearts.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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