Sleep Story: A Little Princess Ch 14

Enjoy this sleep story to help you drift off into a peaceful slumber. Tonight we read Chapter 14 of the timeless classic, A Little Princess, by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Chapter 14 describes how Sara's room gets a surprise visitor while she's working. This audio is perfect for children or adults who want to relax, discover magic or find adventure before a great night's sleep. | This beautiful photo was captured in Colorado by Oliver Pierce.

Transcript

A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett Chapter 14 What Melchizedek heard and saw On this very afternoon,

While Sarah was out,

A strange thing happened in the attic.

Only Melchizedek saw and heard it,

And he was so much alarmed and mystified that he scuttled back to his hole and hid there,

And really quaked and trembled as he peeped out furtively and with great caution to watch what was going on.

The attic had been very still all the day after Sarah had left it in the early morning.

The stillness had only been broken by the pattering of the rain upon the slates and the skylight.

Melchizedek had,

In fact,

Found it rather dull.

And when the rain ceased to patter and perfect silence reigned,

He decided to come out,

Though experience taught him that Sarah would not return for some time.

He had been rambling and sniffing about,

And had just found a totally unexpected and unexplained crumb left from his last meal.

When his attention was attracted by a sound on the roof,

He stopped to listen with a palpitating heart.

The sound suggested that something was moving on the roof.

It was approaching the skylight.

It reached the skylight.

The skylight was being mysteriously opened.

A dark face peered into the attic.

Then another face appeared behind it.

And both looked in with signs of caution and interest.

Two men were outside on the roof and were making silent preparations to enter through the skylight itself.

One was Ram Dass,

And the other was a young man who was the Indian gentleman's secretary.

But of course Melchizedek did not know this.

He only knew that the men were invading the silence and privacy of the attic.

And as the one with the dark face let himself down through the aperture with such lightness and dexterity that he did not make the slightest sound,

Melchizedek turned tail and fled precipitately back to his hole.

He was frightened to death.

He had ceased to be timid with Sarah and knew she would never throw anything but crumbs and would never make any other sound than the soft,

Low,

Coaxing whistling.

But strange men were dangerous things to remain near.

He lay close and flat near the entrance of his home,

Just managing to peep through the crack with a bright,

Alarmed eye.

How much he understood of the talk he heard I am not in the least able to say.

But even if he had understood it at all,

He would probably have remained greatly mystified.

The secretary,

Who was light and young,

Slipped through the skylight as noiselessly as Ram Dass had done,

And he caught a last glimpse of Melchizedek's vanishing tail.

Was that a rat?

He asked Ram Dass in a whisper.

Yes,

A rat,

Sahib,

Answered Ram Dass,

Also whispering.

There are many in the walls.

Ugh!

Exclaimed the young man.

It is a wonder the child is not terrified of them.

Ram Dass made a gesture with his hands.

He also smiled respectfully.

He was in this place as the intimate exponent of Sarah,

Though she had only spoken to him once.

The child is the little friend of all things,

Sahib,

He answered.

She is not as other children.

I see her when she does not see me.

I slip across the slates and look at her many nights to see that she is safe.

I watch her from my window when she does not know I am near.

She stands on the table there and looks out at the sky as if it spoke to her.

The sparrows come at her call.

The rat she has fed and tamed in her loneliness.

The poor slave of the house comes to her for comfort.

There is a little child who comes to her in secret.

There is one older who worships her and would listen to her forever if she might.

This I have seen when I have crept across the roof.

By the mistress of the house,

Who is an evil woman,

She is treated like a pariah,

But she is the bearing of a child who is of blood of kings.

You seem to know a great deal about her,

" the secretary said.

All her life each day I know,

Answered Ram Dass.

Her going out I know and her coming in.

Her sadness and her poor joys.

Her coldness and her hunger.

I know when she is alone until midnight,

Learning from her books.

I know when her secret friends steal to her and she is happier,

As children can be even in the midst of poverty,

Because they come and she may laugh and talk with them and whispers,

"'If she were ill I should know,

And I would come and serve her if it might be done.

'" You are sure no one comes near this place but herself and that she will not return and surprise us?

She would be frightened if she found us here,

And the sahib Karisfor's plan would be spoiled.

Ram Dass crossed noiselessly to the door and stood close to it.

"'None mount here but herself,

Sahib,

' he said.

She has gone out with her basket and may be gone for hours.

If I stand here I can hear any step before it reaches the last flight of the stairs.

" The secretary took a pencil and a tablet from his breast pocket.

"'Keep your ears open,

' he said,

And he began to walk slowly and softly around the miserable little room,

Making rapid notes on his tablet as he looked at things.

First he went to the narrow bed,

He pressed his hand upon the mattress and uttered an exclamation.

"'As hard as a stone,

' he said,

That will have to be altered some day when she is out.

A special journey can be made to bring it across.

It cannot be done to-night.

' He lifted the covering and examined the one thin pillow.

Never let dingy and worn,

Blanket thin,

Sheets patched and ragged,

He said.

What a bed for a child to sleep in,

And in a house which calls herself respectable.

There has not been a fire in that great for many a day,

' glancing at the rusty fireplace.

"'Never since I have seen it,

' said Ram Dass.

The mistress of the house is not one who remembers that another than herself may be cold.

' The secretary was writing quickly on his tablet.

He looked up from it as he tore off a leaf and slipped it into his breast pocket.

"'It is a strange way of doing the thing,

' he said.

Who planned it?

' Ram Dass made a modestly,

Apologetic obiissance.

"'It is true that the first thought was mine,

Sahib,

' he said.

Though it was not but a fancy.

I am fond of this child.

We are both lonely.

It is her way to relate her visions to her secret friends.

Being sat one night,

I lay close to the open skylight and listen.

The vision she related told what this miserable room might be if it had comforts in it.

She seemed to see it as she talked,

And she grew cheered and warmed as she spoke.

Then she came to this fancy,

And the next day,

The Sahib being ill and wretched,

I told him of the thing to amuse him.

It seemed then but a dream,

But it pleased the Sahib.

To hear of the child's doings gave him entertainment.

He became interested in her and asked questions.

At last he began to please himself with the thought of making her visions real.

"'You think it can be done while she sleeps?

Suppose she awakened,

' suggested the secretary,

And it was evident that whatsoever the plan referred to was it had caught and pleased his fancy,

As well as the Sahib Karasford's.

' "'I can move as if my feet were a velvet,

' Romdass replied,

And children sleep soundly,

Even the unhappy ones.

I could have entered this room in the night many times,

And without causing her to turn upon her pillow.

If the other bearer passes to me the things through the window,

I can do all,

And she will not stir.

When she awakens,

She will think a magician has been here.

' He smiled as if his heart warmed under his white robe,

And the secretary smiled back at him.

"'It will be like a story from the Arabian Nights,

' he said.

It does not belong to London Fogs.

' They did not remain very long to the great relief of Malkisadeq,

Who,

As he probably did not comprehend their conversation,

Felt their movements and whispers ominous.

The young secretary seemed interested in everything.

He wrote down things about the floor,

The fireplace,

The broken footstool,

The old table,

The walls,

Which last he touched with his hand again and again,

Seeming much pleased when he found that a number of old nails had been driven in various places.

"'You can hang things on them,

' he said.

Romdass smiled mysteriously.

"'Yesterday when she was out,

' he said,

I entered,

Bringing with me a small,

Sharp nails which can be pressed into the wall without blows from a hammer.

I placed many in the plaster,

Where I may need them.

They are ready.

' The Indian gentleman's secretary stood still and looked round him as he thrust his tablets back into his pocket.

"'I think I have made notes enough.

We can go now,

' he said.

The sahib cares for it has a warm heart.

It is a thousand pities that he has not found the lost child.

' "'If he should find her,

His strength would be restored to him,

' said Romdass.

His god may lead her to him yet.

' Then they slipped through the skylight as noiselessly as they had entered it.

And after he was quite sure they had gone,

Malkesedek was greatly relieved,

And in the course of a few minutes felt it safe to emerge from his hole again,

And scuffle about in the hope that even such alarming human beings as these might have chance to carry crumbs in their pockets and dropped one or two of them.

" And that is the end of our story this evening.

Until next time,

Sweet dreams.

Reviews

It is so nice to relax and listen 😀😀😀
Thank you!

When I stay awake will report in full. Lovely 🙏🏼❤️
Ah finally heard the whole chapter. Yay, onwards and upwards. Must’ve listened at least 15 or mor times. Thanks Hilary

Thanks, Hilary, but too short! Only 14 minutes!