Having erected the door in front of its own doorway, Joe leaned his preventer against the wall, placed his lantern on the chimney-piece, and sat down to meditate. He had not meditated long, when the steady draught of air from the window at his back began to tell upon him. "Och! but it's a cowld wind," said he. "I'll try the other side. There's nothin' like facin' wan's inimies." Acting on this idea, he changed his position, turning his face to the window and his back to the door. "Well," he remarked on sitting down again, "there's about as much draught from the door; but, sure, ye've improved yer sitivation, Corney, for haven't ye the illigant prospect of over the way through the windy?" Not long after this, Joe's mind became much affected with ghostly memories. This condition was aggravated by an intense desire to sleep, for the poor man had been hard worked that day, and stood much in need of repose. He frequently fell asleep, and frequently awoke. On falling asleep, his helmet performed extremely undignified gyrations. On awaking, he always started, opened his eyes very wide, looked round inquiringly, then smiled, and resumed a more easy position. But, awake or asleep, his thoughts ran always in the same channel. During one of those waking moments, Joe heard a sound which rooted him to his seat with horror; and would doubtless have caused his hair to stand on end, if the helmet would have allowed it. The sound was simple enough in itself, however; being slight, slow, and regular, and was only horrible in Joe's mind, because of his being utterly unable to account for it, or to conceive what it could be. Whatever the sound was, it banished sleep from his eyes for at least a quarter of an hour. At last, unable to stand the strain of uncertainty, he arose, drew his hatchet, took down his lantern, and, coughing loudly and sternly--as though to say: "Have a care, I'm coming!"--removed the door and went cautiously into the passage, where the sound appeared to come from. It did not cease on his appearing; but went on slowly and steadily, and louder than before. It appeared to be at his very elbow; yet Joe could see nothing, and a cold perspiration broke out on him. "Och! av I could only _see_ it!" he gasped. Just as he said this he _did_ see it, for a turn of his lantern revealed the fact that a drop of water fell regularly from one of the burnt beams upon a large sheet of paper which had been torn from the passage wall. This, resting on the irregular rubbish, formed a sort of drum, which gave forth a hollow sound. "Ah, then, but ye _are_ a goose, Joe Corney, me boy!" said the fireman, as he turned away with an amiable smile and resumed his seat after replacing the door.