They knew nothing of the peril from which they had been saved the night before, so they had learned no lesson.

On this night they were restless, for their mother had fluttered away, leaving them both a little hungry.

Hunting had been bad, and she had somewhat less milk for them than their growing appetites demanded.

When once more that slender finger of moonlight, feeling its way through a chink in the roof, fell upon them in their crevice, it was the little sister this time that stirred and fluttered under its ghostly touch.

She stretched one wing clear out upon the beam, and it was with difficulty that she restrained herself from giving vent to one of her infinitesimally thin squeaks, tiny as a bead that would drop through the eye of a needle.
"There was no great prowling spider to catch sight of her to-night.
But a very hungry mouse, as it chanced, was just at that moment tip-toeing along the beam, wondering what he could find that would be good to eat.