"There was really some one upon the porch, but why the apparition
should scare Clara out of her wits, I cannot divine. The negro is an
incurable Paul Pry, and, next to dancing a Christmas jig himself, is
the pleasure of seeing others do it."

Mrs. Aylett verified her brother's encomium upon her nerve by
reappearing in the saloon by the time another set was over, and just
before the announcement of supper, radiant and self-possessed,
prepared to do double social duty to atone for the fright she had
caused, and the temporary damp her swoon had cast over the
festivities.

The revel went joyously forward--Christmas-games and incantations,
the dexterous introduction, by a jocose old gentleman, of a
mistletoe-bough into the festoons draping the chandelier, and divers
other tricks, all of which were taken in excellent part by the
victims thereof, and vociferously applauded by the spectators. The
great hall-clock had rung out twelve strokes, and two or three
methodical seniors were beginning to whisper to one another their
intention to take French leave of the indefatigable juniors and seek
their couches, when a continued tumult arose from the yard--barking
and shouts, and voices in angry or eager dispute.

Unmindful of the nipping air, the ladies flew to the windows and
raised them, while the gentlemen, in a body, rushed out upon the
porch, many to the lawn--the scene of the disturbance.

"They have caught him!"

"There are several of them--a gang of thieves, no doubt!"