Elnora closed the stair door behind her, and for the first time in her
life, threw the heavy lever which barred out anyone from down stairs.
Mrs. Comstock heard the thud, and knew what it meant. She reeled
slightly and caught the doorpost for support. For a few minutes she
clung there, then sank to the nearest chair. After a long time she arose
and stumbling half blindly, she put the food in the cupboard and covered
the table. She took the lamp in one hand, the butter in the other, and
started to the spring house. Something brushed close by her face, and
she looked just in time to see a winged creature rise above the cabin
and sail away.

"That was a night bird," she muttered. As she stopped to set the butter
in the water, came another thought. "Perhaps it was a moth!" Mrs.
Comstock dropped the butter and hurried out with the lamp; she held it
high above her head and waited until her arms ached. Small insects of
night gathered, and at last a little dusty miller, but nothing came of
any size.

"I must go where they are, if I get them," muttered Mrs. Comstock.

She went to the barn after the stout pair of high boots she used in
feeding stock in deep snow. Throwing these beside the back door she
climbed to the loft over the spring house, and hunted an old lard oil
lantern and one of first manufacture for oil. Both these she cleaned and
filled. She listened until everything up stairs had been still for over
half an hour. By that time it was past eleven o'clock. Then she took the
lantern from the kitchen, the two old ones, a handful of matches, a ball
of twine, and went from the cabin, softly closing the door.