I would fain have moved it elsewhere, but he was obstinate. The top of the porch was flat, and we could stand there better than anywhere else. So--Tim first, I next--we clambered cautiously up, and stepped on to the ledge. The window was fast like the rest, but it was not shuttered, and Tim boldly attacked the pane nearest to the catch with his elbow. What a hideous noise it made as it shivered inwards and fell with a smash on the floor! "Mind now," said Tim, as he slipped in his hand and pushed back the catch. "Lift away." It was a hard job to lift it, for the wood had warped and grown stiff in its grooves. But presently it started, and gave us room to squeeze through into the room. Even Tim was a little overawed when he found himself standing there in the room, scarcely changed, except for the mildew and cobwebs, from what it had been twelve years ago. "Whisht!" said he in a whisper. "I wish we had a light." But light there was none, and the fitful gleams of the wandering moon served only to make the darkness darker. Once, as it floated clear for an instant, I caught sight of the bed, and a chair, and some withered flowers on the floor, left there, no doubt, since the day of the funeral. Next moment all was dark again. Tim had used the gleam to find the door, and I heard him call me. "Come away. Keep your hand on the wall and feel with your feet for the stairs. It's down below the arms will be." I am sure, had he looked, he would have been able to see the whiteness of my face through the darkness; but he was better employed. "Here it is," he said. "Now keep your hand on the rail and go gently down." "How'll we find our way back to the ladder?" said I. "We've to get our guns first," said he, shortly. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we seemed to be in a passage or hall that went right and left. In the plight in which we were it mattered little which turn we took, so Tim turned to the right, feeling along by the wall, with me close at his heels. Cautiously as we trod, our footsteps seemed to echo along the corridor, till often enough, with my heart in my mouth, I stopped short, certain I heard some one following. Tim too, I thought, was beginning to repent of his venture, and once more said, "We need a light badly." Just then the moon peeped in for a moment through a loophole in one of the shutters, and showed us a bracket on the wall opposite on which stood a candle, and beside it, to our joy, a tinder-box. "These have not stood here twelve years," said Tim, as he lifted them from their place. "This is a new candle." And I remembered then the moving lights I had seen not a week ago.