She drew me into the adjoining room, shading the candle as we passed
through the hall that no gleam might fall where it would attract
attention.

"You'll be safe here," she said. "Now do as I say. Go to sleep and git
some rest. You ain't had much, I guess, since you got to San
Francisco."

The room was cheerless, but in the circumstances the advice appeared
good. I was probably safer here than in the street, and I needed the
rest.

"Good night," said my strange protectress, "You needn't git up till you
git ready. This is a beautiful room--beautiful. I call it our bridal
chamber, though we don't get no brides down here. There won't be no sun
to bother your eyes in the mornin', for that window don't open up
outside. So there, can't nobody git in unless he comes from inside the
house. There, git to bed. Look out you don't set fire to nothing. And
put out the candle. Now good night, dearie."

Mother Borton closed the door behind her, and left me to the shadows.

Her departure did not leave me wholly at my ease. I had escaped from my
foes, but I was no closer to being in touch with those who would be my
friends; and before daylight I might be lying here with my throat slit.
At the reflection I hastily bolted the door, and tried the fastenings
of the window. All seemed secure, but the sound of a footstep in the
passageway gave me a start for an instant.