quiet, pressing her hands over her beating heart, resolved if
possible to discover the mystery for herself before giving any
alarm.

All at once the sounds grew louder; something seemed to give way,
and she saw a hand, a man's hand, pushed through some small
aperture. At that she uttered a little cry.

"Who is there?" she cried, in a shaking voice; and immediately the
hand was withdrawn, whilst a familiar and most reassuring voice
made answer:

"Is anybody there? I beg ten thousand pardons. I had thought the
attic would be hare and empty."

"Reuben!" cried Gertrude, springing forward towards the small
aperture in the wall. "Oh, what is it? Is it indeed thou? And what
art thou doing to the wall?"

"Gertrude! is that thy voice indeed? Nay, now, this is a good hap.
Sweet Mistress Gertrude, have I thy permission to open once again
betwixt thy home and mine that door which as children thy brother
and we did contrive, but which was presently sealed up, though not
over-strongly?"

"Ah, the door!" cried Gertrude, coming forward to the place and
feeling with her hands at the laths and woodwork; "I had forgot,
but it comes to me again. Yes, truly there was a rude door once.
Oh, open it quickly! I will get thee a light and hold it. Dost thou
know, Reuben, what has befallen to make my father look as he did