But on that
night I needed none, for I never took off my clothes, having resolved to
wait till my aunt was asleep, and then, ghosts or no ghosts, to make my
way back to the churchyard. I did not dare to put off that visit even
till the morning, lest some chance passer-by should light upon the hole,
and so forestall me with Blackbeard's treasure.
Thus I lay wide awake on my bed watching the shadow of the tester-post
against the whitewashed wall, and noting how it had moved, by degrees, as
the moon went farther round. At last, just as it touched the picture of
the Good Shepherd which hung over the mantelpiece, I heard my aunt
snoring in her room, and knew that I was free. Yet I waited a few minutes
so that she might get well on with her first sleep, and then took off my
boots, and in stockinged feet slipped past her room and down the stairs.
How stair, handrail, and landing creaked that night, and how my feet and
body struck noisily against things seen quite well but misjudged in the
effort not to misjudge them! And yet there was the note of safety still
sounding, for the snoring never ceased, and the sleeper woke not, though
her waking then might have changed all my life. So I came safely to the
kitchen, and there put in my pocket one of the best winter candles and
the tinder-box, and as I crept out of the room heard suddenly how loud
the old clock was ticking, and looking up saw the bright brass band
marking half past ten on the dial.
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