THE MIGHTY DREAD. 221 
because the snow had driven them through 
famine, they were here—in the gardens, on 
the spot. 
But, with little diversions, he kept to his 
course—any course, so long as it led to an 
inhabited house. We, who are privileged, 
can see him always hugging the shadows, 
always near cover, for he was not quite a 
fool. 
He came to the rick-yard, and two beautiful, 
purplish, electric-bluish, round, little lamps. 
At least, that was all he saw; not all he smelt. 
Those lamps represented the eyes of. a cat, 
waiting for such as he, and he sat and shivered, 
not solely with cold, for half-an-hour, while 
the lazy, drifting snow-flakes nearly hid him. 
He was too afraid of making the half of a 
noise in the straw, which should flash to that 
cat’s listening ears, to move. 
At last the cat got peevish with fate, or 
remembered a better—and warmer—spot to 
find a meal in, and went; and the mouse 
came out from under the bramble-patch, and 
crouched, a tiny, tiny little figure, in the lee 
of the rick. It was a treat to be out of the 
wind, which cut like a Sheffield knife, and the 
warm straw felt homely all round him. 
And then a strange thing happened. 
In the great farm-yard of the Manor House 
