then I searched my way through the dark among the piles of things,
and hid in the secretest place I could find. It was foolish to be
afraid there, yet still I was; so afraid that I held in and hardly
even whimpered, though it would have been such a comfort to whimper,
because that eases the pain, you know. But I could lick my leg,
and that did some good.

For half an hour there was a commotion downstairs, and shoutings,
and rushing footsteps, and then there was quiet again. Quiet for
some minutes, and that was grateful to my spirit, for then my fears
began to go down; and fears are worse than pains--oh, much worse.
Then came a sound that froze me. They were calling me--calling me
by name--hunting for me!

It was muffled by distance, but that could not take the terror out of it,
and it was the most dreadful sound to me that I had ever heard.
It went all about, everywhere, down there: along the halls, through all
the rooms, in both stories, and in the basement and the cellar;
then outside, and farther and farther away--then back, and all
about the house again, and I thought it would never, never stop.
But at last it did, hours and hours after the vague twilight of
the garret had long ago been blotted out by black darkness.

Then in that blessed stillness my terrors fell little by little away,
and I was at peace and slept. It was a good rest I had, but I woke
before the twilight had come again. I was feeling fairly comfortable,
and I could think out a plan now. I made a very good one;
which was, to creep down, all the way down the back stairs,
and hide behind the cellar door, and slip out and escape when the
iceman came at dawn, while he was inside filling the refrigerator;