But a glance was enough. Then literally gathering up his garments--that is to say, taking the skirts of his dressing-gown in his hands--the poor little chap dashed into the enemy's country, looking neither to right nor to left, and ran--his little bare feet making a quick pitter-patter on the polished floor--ran as if for dear life! Fortunately he did not stumble: had he done so, I doubt if he would have been able to get up again--the terrible thought that something had caught him and made him fall would probably have altogether overcome him--but oh how long the gallery seemed, and oh how thankful he was to reach the other end and burst through the swing baize door that closed it!

Here, in the pa.s.sage, leading to the nursery, all was dark, or seemed so at first, though as Denis felt his way to the staircase, his eyes got used to the darkness, and gradually began to discern some light in it.

He knew his way so well that even without this he could have found the stair; and once on it, a little more light came up from the fanlight on the top of the garden-door below, and now Prin's voice was heard again, quite plainly, showing that he was just outside the door, seldom closed to him, poor little dog, as he was accustomed to come in and out by it with the children on their way to and from the garden.

'I'm coming, Prin, dear little Prin,' cried Denis, quite brightly and cheerfully now, as he reached the foot of the stair, and Prin in return gave a hopeful little bark; 'one moment, dear Prin, till Denis opens the door for you,' he went on, as he fumbled for the handle, which he knew he could reach. He reached it, and turned it, but oh, what a disappointment; the door would not open as it did in the daytime--it was bolted! At first Denis thought it might be locked, and he felt about for a key. But there was no key, and peering about in the uncertain light he saw high up something which looked like a bolt--far too high for him to reach, and probably too hard for his little hands to pull back. He had never thought of this, and he was terribly distressed--especially when another faint whine from Prince seemed to ask why he was so slow. But it roused him too.

'Poor Prin,' he said, 'Denis can't get the door open. Den will have to go and get nurse to help. He'll be as quick as he can. Stay there, dear Prin,' and then he turned to climb the stair again, his feet this time perfectly numb with cold. He must get up two flights--past the day-nursery, to where nurse and baby slept, in what was called 'the old nursery,' a story higher than the other. But so long as there was no gallery to face, Denis did not seem to mind. He got on all right till he was crossing the landing or pa.s.sage on to which the swing-door opened; then just as he was putting his foot on the first step of the second flight he was startled by a noise--a sound of footsteps approaching him, and, oh terror! from the direction of the gallery. In his fear he stood still, as if not knowing what to do. The steps came nearer and nearer with a rather slow, dragging sound. Denis still stood as if turned to stone. The baize door swung open, a light warmer and brighter than the moon rays gleamed through, and a figure stood full in the boy's sight.

A tall figure, it seemed to him, clothed in yellow, with pale face and powdered hair, all distinctly seen by the flame of the taper held in its hand.

'The lady in the yellow satin!' screamed poor Denis; 'oh, it's come true! She's got out of the frame to catch me. O mother, mother, it's so dreadful, and I did so try to be brave!'

His eyes closed, his legs gave way, and he half fell forward. What would have happened I don't know, if a sweet, well-known voice had not reached his ears.

'Denis, my boy, don't be frightened. Don't you know me? It's your own old Granny.'

And half-laughing, half-crying, Granny went on talking till the boy took courage again and opened his eyes.

'Granny!' he said, and then shivering again, seemed as if he could hardly believe it.

'Yes, dear, Granny, in her old white cashmere dressing-gown. Look, dear, and see.'

'And white hair, like the picshur,' he said, recovering himself. 'And what a funny thing on the top of your head, Granny--all frilly--like'----

'That's my nightcap,' said Granny, now fairly laughing, and then she went on to explain that from her room, which had an unused door opening on to the same landing as the boys' room, she had heard him moving about, and fearing that something was wrong, and knowing the little fellow to be alone, she had come round by the other way to see.

'For that other door is never opened, and there is a chest of drawers against it,' she said. 'And when I found there was not a little boy in bed in your room, I came back to look for him, you see, Denis, and I thought I heard voices down below. For my ears are sharp still, though I'm such an old woman.'

'It was me talking to poor Prin,' said Denis. And then in his turn he had to explain all, and Granny, taking him back with her to her nice cheerful room where a fire was still burning, rang the bell for her maid, and in a few minutes poor Prince, the cause of all the upset, was happily warming himself and forgetting all his troubles on Granny's hearth-rug.

'I'll go back to bed now, please,' said Denis; 'I'm not a bit frightened now. I don't fink I'll ever be frightened again,' he added in a half-whisper, as he bade Granny a second good-night. And you may fancy how proud he was, when Granny answered, 'Frightened or not, you've shown yourself my own brave little Denis.'

Mother was told all about it next morning, and of the good fruit her words had borne. But as she kissed her little boy, she explained to him and to Nettie, too, that in such a case there would have been no cowardice in telling her of Denis's fears.

'I would not wish any of you to be tried needlessly, dears, you know,'

she said. 'It would have been easy to put Denis into another room. Still I am thankful to see that, when there was need, my boy could battle with his fears and master them.'

But somehow, from that time, the picture gallery ceased to be a place of terror to Denis. For one thing, Granny pleased herself by showing him all the old portraits in the bright daytime, and telling him many interesting and curious stories about their originals, till he got to have quite a friendly feeling to the bewigged and bepowdered long-ago ladies and gentlemen. Especially to the lady in the yellow satin dress, with the mouth like Linda's!

Granny often smiled to herself when she put on her old-fashioned lace-frilled nightcap, and thought of how she had frightened poor little Denis. To 'make up,' she said, she gave him a present of Prince to be his very own; and you may be quite sure he was never again left out in the cold and snow, and that no dog ever led a happier life than he, in faithfully serving the brave little master who had overcome his terror, to do a good and kind action.

THE END.