124 Lurnastde Cottage.

I was sorely puzzled how to conclude my letter ;
and at last took one of those given in the Acts of
the Apostles as my model. I folded it up, ad-
dressed it to “Mr. Prickard”—not having yet learned
the use of Esquire on directions

 

and got into bed,
satisfied that at least I knew now what I was going
to do.

The rain had passed over, and it was a calm,
lovely morning, when I slipped out very early in-
deed, with my letter in my pocket, and took the
way to the big house. The grass was white with
dew, and the birds were answering one another from
bush to tree ; and I lifted up my heart in prayer as
I walked along, thankful that I had at least started
on my undertaking in safety. Every window of
the house was still closed and curtained ; and as I
looked at them, and thought of the sleepers inside,
I said to myself, how wonderful it was that I, weak
and helpless as I seemed, was about to save them
all from impending danger. I found my way to
the front, and thought I recognised the window of
the room in which they breakfasted, from an account
I had heard Master George give Mr. Hurst of a
thrush that he had watched building in a barberry
close by. There was a spreading laurel near the
window—for the house was very much closed in by
trees and shrubs—and here I hid myself and waited