Jacob Wincher made no farther attempt to justify his hard sleeping, but led the way to the boothouse, a small and darksome chamber, chiefly tenanted by members of the beetle tribe, who apparently found sufficient aliment in the loose plaster that fell from the mildew-stained walls. Thence they proceeded to the brewery, which was almost as large as the kitchen, and boasted a huge copper, and a still huger chimney-shaft open to the sky. There were three doors in this place—one narrow and low, opening to an obscure corner of the garden; a second belonging to a spacious cupboard, which may have been used for wood in days gone by; and the third a mysterious little door in an angle. ‘What does that belong to?’ asked Lucius, pointing to this unknown door, after examining the one leading to the garden, which was securely locked and barred, and, according to Mr. Wincher’s account, was very rarely unfastened. ‘That door yonder in the corner,’ he asked again, as the old man hesitated. ‘Where does that lead?’ ‘I can’t say as I know very well,’ answered Jacob Wincher dubiously. ‘There’s a kind of a staircase leads up somewhere—to a loft, I suppose.’ ‘Why, man alive,’ cried Lucius, ‘do you mean to tell me that you have lived all these years in this house and that there is a staircase in it which leads you don’t know where?’ ‘You can’t hardly call it a staircase, sir,’ answered the other apologetically; ‘it’s very little more than a ladder.’ ‘Ladder or staircase, you mean to say you don’t know where it leads?’ ‘No, sir. I’m not particular strong in my legs, and there’s a great deal more room than we want in this house without poking into holes and corners; so I never troubled about it.’ ‘Indeed, Mr. Wincher; now I am more curious than you, and I propose that before examining the cellars we find out where this staircase leads.’ ‘I’m agreeable, sir.’ ‘You talk about a loft; but the roof of this brewhouse shows that there can be nothing above it.’ ‘Very true, sir.’ ‘And the kitchen is built in the same way?’ ‘Yes, sir. But there’s the boothouse. I took it for granted that staircase led to a loft or a garret over that.’ ‘Can you see nothing from outside?’ ‘Nothing, except the sloping roof.’ Lucius opened the door in the angle, and beheld a curious cramped little staircase, which, as Jacob Wincher had told him, was verily little better than a ladder. It was by no means an inviting staircase, bearing upon it the dust and cobwebs of ages, and leading to profound darkness. To the timid mind it was eminently suggestive of vermin and noxious insects. But Lucius, who was determined to discover the ins and outs of this curious old house, ascended the feeble creaking steps boldly enough.