As the hours wore on, and the wind outside began to rise, the mirth waxed louder and more contagious. Perhaps the landlord’s old whiskey contributed its mite also; but be this as it may, long before midnight the uproar was terrible. The floor shook under the feet of the performers; the rafters of the ceiling trembled with the shouts and laughter: and the shrill notes of the Cremona rose over all. The few tallow candles, which, from tin sconces, threw at best but a faint yellow radiance around, were almost obscured by the dust that rose from the floor and the smoke that ascended from innumerable pipes. The landlord, with a boy for an assistant, stood within the quadrant shaped bar, that occupied one corner of the apartment, looking out, from between the upright rails, with a well-pleased smile, for he knew that the louder the merriment, the greater would be his profits. Indeed, he had little leisure even to look, so frequent were the calls from his thirsty customers. It may seem strange that the officer should select this apartment for the purpose of writing, or that he could abstract himself sufficiently to write at all in such a din. But, in truth, the inn afforded no place whither he might retreat. In the primitive fashion of that age and district, it had but one huge room, unless the loft overhead, where the guests slept in rows, could be dignified by that name. It was a matter of necessity for him, therefore, to turn this apartment, which alternately served for ball-room, bar-room, dining-saloon and town-hall, into a library. Fortunately, circumstances had early taught him that valuable discipline of mind, which enables the possessor to concentrate his thoughts on the subject before him, regardless of the confusion and noise around. Toward midnight rain began to fall. Occasionally, in pauses of the merriment, the storm would be heard beating wildly against the window panes, while now and then, when the door was temporarily opened, the wind would dash the cold drops into the faces of those near the entrance. The trees, which overshadowed the house, moaned in the gale. Down the village street the tempest went howling wildly, till in the distance it sank to a low wail. The water in the neighboring bay, driven fiercely against the meadows, roared with an ever-increasing sound, as if threatening to inundate the low tongue of land whereon the hamlet was built.