"Ay, weel eneuch. Only I wad sair like a bittie o' can'le," was Annie's
trembling reply, for she had a sad foreboding instinct now.
"Can'le! Na, na, bairn," answered Mrs Bruce. "Ye s' get no can'le here.
Ye wad hae the hoose in a low (flame) aboot oor lugs (ears). I canna
affoord can'les. Ye can jist mak' a can'le o' yer han's, and fin (feel)
yer gait up the twa stairs. There's thirteen steps to the firs, and
twal to the neist."
With choking heart, but without reply, Annie went.
Groping her way up the steep ascent, she found her room without any
difficulty. As it was again a clear, starlit night, there was light
enough for her to find everything she wanted; and the trouble at her
heart kept her imagination from being as active as it would otherwise
have been, in recalling the terrible stories of ghosts and dead people
with which she was far too familiar. She soon got into bed, and, as a
precautionary measure, buried her head under the clothes before she
began to say her prayers, which, under the circumstances, she had
thought she might be excused for leaving till she had lain down. But
her prayers were suddenly interrupted by a terrible noise of scrambling
and scratching and scampering in the very room beside her.
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