When bedtime came, I went to my own room, and was soon fast asleep.
What roused me I do not know, but I awoke in the midst of the darkness,
and the next moment I heard a groan. It thrilled me with horror. I sat
up in bed and listened, but heard no more. As I sat listening, heedless
of the cold, the explanation dawned upon me, for my powers of
reflection and combination had been developed by my enlarged experience
of life. In our many wanderings, I had learned to choose between roads
and to make conjectures from the _lie_ of the country. I had likewise
lived in a far larger house than my home. Hence it now dawned upon me,
for the first time, that grannie's room must be next to mine, although
approached from the other side, and that the groan must have been hers.
She might be in need of help. I remembered at the same time how she had
wished to have me by her in the middle of the night, that she might be
able to tell me what she could not recall in the day. I got up at once,
dressed myself, and stole down the one stair, across the kitchen, and
up the other. I gently opened grannie's door and peeped in. A fire was
burning in the room. I entered and approached the bed. I wondered how I
had the courage; but children more than grown people are moved by
unlikely impulses. Grannie lay breathing heavily. I stood for a moment.
The faint light flickered over her white face. It was the middle of the
night, and the tide of fear inseparable from the night began to rise.
My old fear of her began to return with it. But she lifted her lids,
and the terror ebbed away. She looked at me, but did not seem to know
me. I went nearer.

'Grannie,' I said, close to her ear, and speaking low; 'you wanted to
see me at night--that was before I went to school. I'm here, grannie.'

The sheet was folded back so smooth that she could hardly have turned