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The Little Regiment by Stephen Crane
page 33 of 122 (27%)
mother nodded. Hanging arm in arm they stole across the floor toward the
head of the stairs. A board of the floor creaked. They halted and
exchanged a look of dumb agony.

At last they reached the head of the stairs. From the kitchen came the
bass humming of the kettle and frequent sputterings and cracklings from
the fire. These sounds were sinister. The mother and the girl stood
incapable of movement. "There's somebody down there!" whispered the
elder woman.

Finally, the girl made a gesture of resolution. She twisted her arm
from her mother's hands and went two steps downward. She addressed the
kitchen: "Who's there?" Her tone was intended to be dauntless. It rang
so dramatically in the silence that a sudden new panic seized them as if
the suspected presence in the kitchen had cried out to them. But the
girl ventured again: "Is there anybody there?" No reply was made save by
the kettle and the fire.

With a stealthy tread the girl continued her journey. As she neared the
last step the fire crackled explosively and the girl screamed. But the
mystic presence had not swept around the corner to grab her, so she
dropped to a seat on the step and laughed. "It was--was only the--the
fire," she said, stammering hysterically.

Then she arose with sudden fortitude and cried: "Why, there isn't
anybody there! I know there isn't." She marched down into the kitchen.
In her face was dread, as if she half expected to confront something,
but the room was empty. She cried joyously: "There's nobody here! Come on
down, ma." She ran to the kitchen door and locked it.

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