FullReads

“Never mind,” said Kate cheerfully, “we’ll light a fire outside and cook our supper and then we’ll spend the night in the barn. A bed of prairie hay will be just the thing.”

But the barn was locked too. It was now dark and our plight was rather desperate.

“I’m going to get into the house if I have to break a window,” said Kate resolutely. “Hannah would want us to do that. She’d never get over it, if she heard we came to her house and couldn’t get in.”

Fortunately we did not have to go to the length of breaking into Hannah’s house. The kitchen window went up quite easily. We turned the shaganappies loose to forage for themselves, grass and water being abundant. Then we climbed in at the window, lighted our lantern, and found ourselves in a very snug little kitchen. Opening off it on one side was a trim, nicely furnished parlour and on the other a well-stocked pantry.

“We’ll light the fire in the stove in a jiffy and have a real good supper,” said Kate exultantly. “Here’s cold roast beef–and preserves and cookies and cheese and butter.”

Before long we had supper ready and we did full justice to the absent Hannah’s excellent cheer. After all, it was quite nice to sit down once more to a well-appointed table and eat in civilized fashion.

Then we washed up all the dishes and made everything snug and tidy. I shall never be sufficiently thankful that we did so.

Kate piloted me upstairs to the spare room.

“This is fixed up much nicer than it was when I was here before,” she said, looking around. “Of course, Hannah and Ted were just starting out then and they had to be economical. They must have prospered, to be able to afford such furniture as this. Well, turn in, Phil. Won’t it be rather jolly to sleep between sheets once more?”

We slept long and soundly until half-past eight the next morning; and dear knows if we would have wakened then of our own accord. But I heard somebody saying in a very harsh, gruff voice, “Here, you two, wake up! I want to know what this means.”

We two did wake up, promptly and effectually. I never wakened up so thoroughly in my life before. Standing in our room were three people, one of them a man. He was a big, grey-haired man with a bushy black beard and an angry scowl. Beside him was a woman–a tall, thin, angular personage with red hair and an indescribable bonnet. She looked even crosser and more amazed than the man, if that were possible. In the background was another woman–a tiny old lady who must have been at least eighty. She was, in spite of her tininess, a very striking-looking personage; she was dressed all in black, and had snow-white hair, a dead-white face, and snapping, vivid, coal-black eyes. She looked as amazed as the other two, but she didn’t look cross.

I knew something must be wrong–fearfully wrong–but I didn’t know what. Even in my confusion, I found time to think that if that disagreeable-looking red-haired woman was Hannah Brewster, Kate must have had a queer taste in school friends. Then the man said, more gruffly than ever, “Come now. Who are you and what business have you here?”

Kate raised herself on one elbow. She looked very wild. I heard the old black-and-white lady in the background chuckle to herself.

“Isn’t this Theodore Brewster’s place?” gasped Kate.

“No,” said the big woman, speaking for the first time. “This place belongs to us. We bought it from the Brewsters in the spring. They moved over to Black River Forks. Our name is Chapman.”

Poor Kate fell back on the pillow, quite overcome. “I–I beg your pardon,” she said. “I–I thought the Brewsters lived here. Mrs. Brewster is a friend of mine. My cousin and I are on our way to Bothwell and we called here to spend the night with Hannah. When we found everyone away we just came in and made ourselves at home.”