I suspect some deviltry. I'll step to Paul. He's not asleep, I dare say.
He's a brave and a sensible lad, and with him I'll quietly search the
house."

Away she went, more nervous than she would own, and tapped at the boy's
door. No one answered, and, seeing that it was ajar, Hester whisked in
so hurriedly that her candle went out. With an impatient exclamation at
her carelessness she glided to the bed, drew the curtain, and put forth
her hand to touch the sleeper. The bed was empty. A disagreeable thrill
shot through her, as she assured herself of the fact by groping along
the narrow bed. Standing in the shadow of the curtain, she stared about
the dusky room, in which objects were visible by the light of a new
moon.

"Lord bless me, what is the boy about! I do believe it was him I saw in
the--" She got no further in her mental exclamation for the sound of
light approaching footsteps neared her. Slipping around the bed she
waited in the shadow, and a moment after Paul appeared, looking pale and
ghostly, with dark, disheveled hair, wide-open eyes, and a cloak thrown
over his shoulders. Without a pause he flung it off, laid himself in
bed, and seemed to sleep at once.

"Paul! Paul!" whispered Hester, shaking him, after a pause of
astonishment at the whole proceeding.

"Hey, what is it?" And he sat up, looking drowsily about him.

"Come, come, no tricks, boy. What are you doing, trailing about the
house at this hour and in such trim?"