It was a small square cellar, having earthen sides, but piles of
pine boxes made ambushes everywhere.
"Come out!" Grandma Padgett spoke again. "We won't have any tricks
played. But if you're hurt, we can help you."
It was like addressing solid darkness, for the chip was languishing
upon its coals, and cast but a dim red glare around the shovel.
Still some being crept toward them from the darkness, uttering a
prolonged and hearty groan, as if to explode at once the
accumulations of silence.
CHAPTER VI.
MR. MATTHEWS.
Aunt Corinne realizing it was a man, rushed to the top of the steps
and hid her eyes behind the door. She knew her mother could deal with
him, and, if he offered any harm, pour coals of fire upon his head in
a literal sense. But she did not feel able to stand by. Robert, on
the other hand, seeing no red nightcap on the head thrust up toward
them, supported his grandmother strongly, and even helped to pull the
man up-stairs.
One touch of his soft, foolish body was enough to convince any one
that he was a harmless creature. His foot was sprained.
Robert carried a backless chair and set it before the fire, and on
this the limping man was placed.
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