A blaze of lightning that flashed through every chink and crevice of the shut-up old house, and a crash of thunder that overwhelmed all other sounds, stopped the talk of the unseen companions. Then the muttering voice was heard again, saying something offensive to the interlocutor, though inaudible to the listeners, for the loud voice replied: “Drinking; no, I have not been drinking! At least not more than is good for me! The moment any one takes a deep breath and shows a little fearlessness, you think they’ve been—drinking! Go and look after the people you have left in the hall so long, and take them up to see the old woman. That is, if she wants to see them. You must humor her; but as for the girl——” Again the murmuring voice intervened, but the loud voice broke in: “I tell you she must be got out of the way! Now go look after these visitors below.” A sound of shuffling feet was heard, and Justin whispered to Erminie: “Little sister, there’s something wrong here, but we must not seem to have been listening.” And, so saying, he hurried her down the stairs, as fast as the darkness would permit him to do with safety. Arrived at the foot, he waited some few minutes, and then he sang out as loud as he could: “Hallo! waiter! porter! footman! major-domo! man of all work! whatever or whoever you are! where are you? Come, let us in; or let us out!” “I am here, set fire to you! Couldn’t you be quiet for five minutes, while I was gone to tell the old lady?” answered a growling voice from the hall above. And at the same time a person, bearing a dim light, began to descend the stairs. He was a man of about thirty years of age, of gigantic height; but with a small head, and closely-cut black hair, and a beardless, or else closely-shaven, dark-complexioned face; a man you would not like to meet on a lonely road on a dark night. He was dressed from head to foot in a closely-fitting suit of the dust-colored coarse cloth that has since become so well known as the uniform of the Confederate army. “Couldn’t you be easy for five minutes, while I was gone?” he growled, as he reached the foot of the stairs. “Your minutes are very long ones, friend!” laughed Justin. “You want to see the old lady, you say?” “I wish to see Miss Pole.” “Come along, then,” said the man, stopping to snuff the candle with his fingers, and then leading the way upstairs. Justin, still holding his sister closely under his arm, reascended the stairs. By the light of the candle carried by the man before him, he saw that this part of the old house seemed entirely unfurnished. The floors were bare and rough, and broken here and there, and the walls were disfigured by torn paper and fallen plastering. This hall of the third story was neatly papered and comfortably carpeted, and well lighted by a small, clear lamp hanging from the ceiling. A large window at the end of this hall was also curtained.