"
"Yes," said Miss Fortune, suddenly standing erect, "you'll
have to go down to the spout."
"The spout, Ma’am," said Ellen, "what's that?"
"You'll know it when you see it, I guess," answered her aunt,
again stooping over her preparations. But in another moment
she arose and said, "Just open that door there behind you, and
go down the stairs and out at the door, and you'll see where
it is, and what it is too."
Ellen still lingered. "Would you be so good as to give me a
towel, Ma’am," she said, timidly.
Miss Fortune dashed past her and out of another door, whence
she presently returned with a clean towel, which she threw
over Ellen's arm, and then went back to her work.
Opening the door by which she had first seen her aunt enter
the night before, Ellen went down a steep flight of steps, and
found herself in a lower kitchen, intended for common
purposes. It seemed not to be used at all — at least there was
no fire there, and a cellar-like feeling and smell instead.
That was no wonder, for beyond the fireplace on the left hand
was the opening to the cellar, which, running under the other
part of the house, was on a level with this kitchen. It had no
furniture but a table and two chairs. The thick, heavy door
stood open. Passing out, Ellen looked around for water — in
what shape or form it was to present itself she had no very
clear idea.
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