I was alone, a stranger, in an upper room of the house.

Should my conductor have disappeared, by design or by accident, and some one of the family should find me here, what would be the consequence?
Should I not be arrested as a thief, and conveyed to prison?
My transition from the street to this chamber would not be more rapid than my passage hence to a jail.
These ideas struck me with panic.

I revolved them anew, but they only acquired greater plausibility.

No doubt I had been the victim of malicious artifice.

Inclination, however, conjured up opposite sentiments, and my fears began to subside.