Once past Reuben, she
would feel comparatively safe, for although Oliver's room was opposite
he was too weary to be wakeful. It took scarcely a minute to creep
toward Reuben, and Betty drew a quick breath of relief when she
perceived that the farmer-bred lad, unaccustomed to night watches, and
feeling that his prisoner was secure behind the bolted door, had fallen
fast asleep. Another minute and she had fairly flown through the hall
and reached the door of the garret stairs; she recollected that the
latch had a troublesome creak occasionally; indeed, she had noticed it
only that very day, as she and Sally Tracy had mounted to their eyrie
in the big dormer window of the garret, where safe from all ears they
were wont to confide their girlish secrets to each other.
"Pray Heaven it creak not to-night," said Betty to herself as she gently
and steadily pulled the handle of the latch and saw the dreaded door
open to her hand. Inside stepped Betty, and made breathless pause while
she closed it, and the amiable latch fell softly down again into its
place. Swift as a flash the girlish figure flitted up the winding narrow
stairs, and gasping but triumphant Betty seated herself on the lowest
step of the trap-ladder to await the coming of Geoffrey Yorke.
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