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Katrina wanted everything done just so; the garden gate must not only be shut but latched; he must walk in the middle of the path, and he must always use the kitchen door. If he went to the other door, he was sure to hear “Dear, dear! How grand he is today! He must come in at the front door and make some one leave her work to let him in.” No, indeed. He would not go all that way around by King Street any more. Their old apples could hang and hang there forever, for all he cared.,

But evidently Jerry had used up all the words he had on tap. After some sort of unsatisfactory[40] answer he got up and moved off in silence in the aloof way he had. Bob sat still and thought over what the other had just told him. The plan of exploring this canyon which no one else had ever been able to go through fired his imagination. He wanted to try it.,

“Hold it still, why don’t you?” shouted John. Asta struggled and strove, but without success.,

Many persons were standing around, all looking at Grandmother and Johnny Blossom.

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Bob almost sobbed with his great disappointment. It seemed to be the end; there was nothing more to be done. He had explored the room—every nook and cranny of it—and he had come across nothing that could be used.,

“No good do that,” a quiet voice came to them from right beside them in the shadow of the doorway.,

They could not talk of this so secretly, but that they were overheard by Little Thumbling, who reckoned upon being able to get out of the difficulty by the same means as the first time; but though he got up very early to collect the little pebbles, he did not succeed in his object, for he found the house door double locked. He was at his wit's end what to do, when his mother having given each of them a piece of bread for their breakfast, it occurred to him that he might make the bread take the place of the pebbles, by strewing crumbs along the path as they went, and so he put his piece in his pocket. The father and mother led them into the thickest and darkest part of the forest, and as soon as they had done so, they turned into a bypath, and left them there. Little Thumbling did not trouble himself much, for he believed he could easily find his way back by help of the crumbs which he had scattered wherever he had passed; but he was greatly surprised to find not a single crumb left—the birds had come and picked them all up. The poor children were now, indeed, in great distress; the further they wandered, the deeper they plunged into the forest. Night came on, and a great wind arose, which filled them with terror. They fancied they heard nothing on every side but the howling of wolves, running towards them to devour them. They scarcely dared to speak or look behind them. Then there came a heavy rain, which drenched them to the skin; they slipped at every step, tumbling into the mud, out of which they scrambled covered with dirt, not knowing what to do with their hands. Little Thumbling climbed up a tree to try if he could see anything from the top of it. Having looked about on all sides, he saw a little light, like that of a candle, but it was a long way off, on the other side of the forest. He came down again, and when he had reached the ground, he could no longer see the light. He was in despair at this, but having walked on with his brothers for some time in the direction of the light, he caught sight of it again as they emerged from the forest.,

Meanwhile a circumstance occurred which increased the general discord, and threatened Emilia with the loss of her last remaining comfort—the advice and consolation of Madame de Menon. The marchioness, whose passion for the Count de Vereza had at length yielded to absence, and the pressure of present circumstances, now bestowed her smiles upon a young Italian cavalier, a visitor at the castle, who possessed too much of the spirit of gallantry to permit a lady to languish in vain. The marquis, whose mind was occupied with other passions, was insensible to the misconduct of his wife, who at all times had the address to disguise her vices beneath the gloss of virtue and innocent freedom. The intrigue was discovered by madame, who, having one day left a book in the oak parlour, returned thither in search of it. As she opened the door of the apartment, she heard the voice of the cavalier in passionate exclamation; and on entering, discovered him rising in some confusion from the feet of the marchioness, who, darting at madame a look of severity, arose from her seat. Madame, shocked at what she had seen, instantly retired, and buried in her own bosom that secret, the discovery of which would most essentially have poisoned the peace of the marquis. The marchioness, who was a stranger to the generosity of sentiment which actuated Madame de Menon, doubted not that she would seize the moment of retaliation, and expose her conduct where most she dreaded it should be known. The consciousness of guilt tortured her with incessant fear of discovery, and from this period her whole attention was employed to dislodge from the castle the person to whom her character was committed. In this it was not difficult to succeed; for the delicacy of madame's feelings made her quick to perceive, and to withdraw from a treatment unsuitable to the natural dignity of her character. She therefore resolved to depart from the castle; but disdaining to take an advantage even over a successful enemy, she determined to be silent on that subject which would instantly have transferred the triumph from her adversary to herself. When the marquis, on hearing her determination to retire, earnestly enquired for the motive of her conduct, she forbore to acquaint him with the real one, and left him to incertitude and disappointment.