Time passed. Mr. Marble’s confidence was betrayed, and his plans frustrated. Mr. Wood took the whole responsibility upon himself, and tried to buy the rock. Finding he was foiled in this, he hired a man to go to work against Mr. Marble. In this he failed also, and, instead of getting the other half of the business, he lost the half he already had. After this, Mr. Marble had no more partners. The man Mr. Wood had hired kept on working there in his own employ. Marble had built a small house for his own accommodation some time before, and one or another of his or Mr. Wheeler’s family had done the work there, and kept them comfortable. Now the hired man offered to bring his wife there to reside, which he did a short time before Mr. Wood left. Mr. Marble’s family had been staying in the vicinity a while, but long before the cold weather they returned to their home in the interior, and nothing now remained to cheer the unbroken monotony of his way. The long, and chilling winter of the year eighteen hundred and fifty-five will be remembered a great while by the man whose work was to find a way to Dungeon Rock. With the summer came plenty and warmth again; the little garden was planted, the carriage road laid out and built, where before there was scarcely a path; a friend gave him two hundred dollars, to be refunded when he found himself able. With this he laid the foundation for a large stone building, to be erected in the octagon form, somewhat after the fashion of the gray and sombre Oriad. Then another person seemingly still more of a friend, was directed (also by the spirits) to forward two or three thousand dollars to have the work go on. This was a brilliant proposal; but owing to some mismanagement or mistake it was never carried into effect. A short time before this a spring was discovered upon the low land near the rock, which proved to be a great curiosity. Then a small wooden house was erected, in addition to the one already there, into which the remainder of Mr. Marble’s family, consisting of a wife and daughter, removed. Soon after this, a party of people from Charlestown and Boston, who had lately become interested in the place, were there on a visit, when a medium being entranced, purported to speak from the spirit of Sir Walter Scott, and requested a lady who was present to make Mr. Marble a present, such as he (the spirit) would dictate. It afterwards came in the shape of a flag-staff, eighty feet in length, which was firmly planted in the place formerly excavated by the Hutchinsons. Then a flag with the appropriate inscription, “Thy faith is founded on a rock,” was raised upon it by the lady’s own hands. There was no fear of starvation that winter, but the snow was wondrously deep, and the hollows were piled softly up, almost even with the hill-tops.