She looked out and there stood Jack. "I've saved my cake for you," she said. "How shall I get it up to you?"
"I'll let down a string," said Nan promptly. This was a pleasant diversion and she hunted around energetically till she found in Miss Sarah's work-basket a spool of strong thread. To the end of this she fastened an empty spool which she dropped out of the window. Jack fastened her cake to the string having first wrapped it in a piece of paper, and Nan drew it up. "You are a darling," she called down. "I'll do as much for you some time. Can't you get me some biscuits or something?"
"There aren't any biscuits left to-night. The boys were so hungry and Phil was here; there's only batter-bread left and that's too soft," returned Jack. But here the opening of a door sent her scudding away and Nan closed her window.
She devoured every crumb of the cake and longed for more. It seemed but to whet her appetite and she pondered long trying to devise some way by which she could undertake a foraging expedition. "As if I hadn't a right to my own mother's food," she said, complainingly. "I'm going to get it some way."
After a long time given to planning out different schemes Nan at last hit upon one which she determined to carry out. She would wait till after every one had gone to bed. She wondered if she could keep awake till then. She made up her mind that she would, and, after lighting the lamp, she took a magazine from her aunt's stock of papers and began to read. She grew very drowsy after awhile, but she did not give up to sleep. Instead she tried all sorts of steps, making such a noise that the other children came to see what she was doing.
"What are you up to?" called Mary Lee through the key-hole.
"I'm only amusing myself," returned Nan. "I'm just dancing to keep awake."
"Why don't you go to bed?" asked Mary Lee.
"Don't want to yet," replied Nan, smiling.
Her lively effort had the effect she wished and she was wide awake even when Aunt Sarah came up to bed. She waited till she was sure all was still in the house, putting out her light and watching till the crack of light coming from the room across the hall was no longer shining under the door. Then she lighted her own candle and cautiously unlocked a door leading from the room she was in to the unused wing of the house. She left the door open and stepped out into the dark empty hall. It appeared strange and uncanny. A sudden squeak and a scuttling sound suggested mice, and the whir of wings and the quick swoop of a bat's wing scared her so that she nearly dropped her candle. The peculiarly musty smell which comes from a house which has long been shut up greeted her as she stood for a moment irresolute. Was it worth while to continue the adventure?