"I don'd quite vas like id here," he muttered, uneasily. "I'd makes a veller t'ink he's goin' der get smashed up effery minute. I vonder vot dey keep up there?" and his eyes rested upon an aperture in the ceiling, such as is often provided in houses as a means of reaching the roof. A stout rope hung down through this opening to the floor of the room, and had evidently been used to climb up into the attic. Fritz was just contemplating it, when a sound of footsteps in the hall outside aroused him to quicker thoughts. "I'll bet a half-dollar it's a ghost comin'," he gasped, the tendency of his hair being again decidedly upward. "But, it was a cold day ven dey scalb me mit der tommyhawk, ash long ash I can climb." Accordingly, up the rope he went, hand-over-hand, with the agility of a monkey, and soon gained the attic immediately above the chamber. It was a dark, ill-smelling place, and so far as Fritz could see, used for no particular purpose whatever. Ensconcing himself directly beside the aperture through which he had come up, Fritz prepared to await developments. He was not a little anxious to know who the new-comer was--whether a human or spiritual being, for if the latter, he had a curiosity to inspect it. In a few moments the door opened and a strapping Irishman stalked into the chamber, a lank, lean specimen of humanity, with a Killkenny face, red hair, a fringe of reddish beard under his lower jaw, extending to his ears, and attired in brogans, short pantaloons, and a blue soldier coat, with a grimy clay pipe in his mouth, and battered plug hat on his head. Of the "rale old" race of Irishmen, he was certainly a good specimen. "Arrah! sure it's divil one room but they have locked, an' a sorry place it is, too, for a dacent Irish gintlemon--an the son of a duke at that! Bad 'cess to sich a counthry, onny-how. It's wurruk like the divil for a bit of grub, and when a mon gits out ov wurruk sure stomick has to pay for it. If yez ax a mon will he be afther givin' yez a nip off bread, he tell yez, 'Arrah! off wid ye, ye murdtherin' tromp, or I'll sick tha purrup on yez!' bedad." "I'll yoost pet half-dollar der Irishman vas pin stoppin' mit Samples!" Fritz muttered, with a grin, taking a peep at the son of Erin. "He vas hungry like as vot I vas. Vonder off he haff discovered der skelegon, yet avile." The Hibernian had not, evidently, for he was perched composedly beneath the suspended head. "Sorry a place this is for the son of a duke," he went on muttering. "Sure, it looks as if the ould divil himself had been here. Guess this property would be sellin' moighty cheap, tha while. Ugh!" as a heavy clap of thunder caused the house to shake from stem to stern, "a sorry wild night it's a-goin' to be, an' it's meself that's wishin' I was back forninst the furdther side av the big puddle." "Ha! ha!" laughed Fritz, throwing his voice to the farther side of the room.