It
was such a little hesitating sort of sound that it sounded more
like a fumble than a knock, as if some one very timid, with very
little hands, was feeling along the door, not quite daring to
knock. For a minute I thought it was a mouse. But I waited and it
came again, and then I made up my mind it was a knock, but a very
little scared one, so I said, 'Come in.'
"But nobody came in, and then presently I heard the knock again.
Then I got up and opened the door, thinking it was very queer, and
I had a frightened feeling without knowing why.
"Well, I opened the door, and the first thing I noticed was a
draught of cold air, as if the front door downstairs was open, but
there was a strange close smell about the cold draught. It smelled
more like a cellar that had been shut up for years, than out-of-
doors. Then I saw something. I saw my coat first. The thing that
held it was so small that I couldn't see much of anything else.
Then I saw a little white face with eyes so scared and wishful that
they seemed as if they might eat a hole in anybody's heart. It was
a dreadful little face, with something about it which made it
different from any other face on earth, but it was so pitiful that
somehow it did away a good deal with the dreadfulness.
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