Phillis, having an indefinable feeling that Bacchus was somehow or other connected with the said elevation, looked carefully round the room, but saw nothing.  Gradually the chest lid opened a little way, and a sepulchral voice, issuing from it, uttered in a low tone these words: 

“Phillis, gal, is that you?”

The cat looked ready to spring, and the chest lid suddenly closed again.  But while Phillis was recovering herself the lid was cautiously opened, and Bacchus’s eyes glaring through the aperture.  The words were repeated.

“Why, what on earth?” said the astonished woman:  “Surely, is that you, Bacchus?”

“It is, surely,” said Bacchus; “but put that devil of a tiger out of de room, if you don’t want me to die dis minute.”

Phillis’s presence always had an imposing effect upon Jupiter; and as she opened the door to the other room, and called him in, he followed her without any hesitation.

She shut him in, and then hurried back to lift up the chest lid, to release her better half.

“Why, how,” said she, as Bacchus, in a most cramped condition endeavored to raise himself, “did the lid fall on you?”

“No,” groaned Bacchus.  “Are you sure de middle door’s shut.  Let me git out o’ dis place quick as possible, for since ole Peggy left, de ole boy hisself has taken up his abode here.  ’Pears as if I never should git straight agin.”

“Why, look at your face, Bacchus,” said his wife.  “Did Jupiter scratch you up that way.”

“Didn’t he though?  Wait till I gits out of reach of his claws, and I’ll tell you about it;” and they both went out, Phillis locking the door to keep Jupiter quiet, that night at least.  After having washed the blood off his face and hands, and surveyed himself with a dismal countenance in the looking-glass, Bacchus proceeded to give an account of his adventure.

After dinner he thought he would secure Jupiter, and have him effectually done for before Phillis came back.  He mustered up all his courage, and unlocking the house, determined to catch and tie him, then decide on a mode of death that would be effectual.  He had heard some officer from Mexico describe the use of the lasso, and it occurred to him to entrap Jupiter in this scientific manner.  But Jupiter was an old bird; he was not to be caught with chaff.  Bacchus’s lasso failed altogether, and very soon the cat became so enraged that Bacchus was obliged to take a three-legged stool, and act on the defensive.  He held the stool before his face, and when Jupiter made a spring at him, he dodged against him with it.  Two or three blows excited Jupiter’s anger to frenzy, and after several efforts he succeeded in clawing Bacchus’s face in the most dreadful manner, so that it was with the greatest difficulty he could clear himself.  Desperate with pain and fright, he looked for some way of escape.  The door was shut, and Jupiter, who seemed to be preparing for another attack, was between him and it.  He had but one resource, and that was to spring into Aunt Peggy’s great chest, and close the lid to protect himself from another assault.