Bump! came the noise again, and then there was a whispering, and the gruff voice cried, "Don't you go away!" And then, to his great horror, through the thin wood partition, Mr Smith heard people moving in the next room, and a clattering noise as if a washstand was being moved from before the door that he had tried that night and found fast, but piled the chairs up against for safety sake. Directly after came the rattling of a key, and the cracking of the paint-stuck door, as if it were years since it had been opened; but Mr Smith could stop to hear no more. Hurriedly turning his key, he dashed open his door, gave a yell of terror, and charging out, scattered half a score of the inn-tenants standing in the gallery, candle in hand. There was a wild shrieking, the overturning of candlesticks, and women fainting, and then, as two or three made very doubtful efforts to stop the bald-headed figure, it leaped over a prostrate chambermaid, and dashed along the balcony. "Hie! stop him, hie!" was the shout that rang behind; but Mr Smith ran on, then along the other side, closely followed by him of the gruff voice, while two more went the other way. "Look out," roared the keeper, "or he'll do you a mischief!" and so, as Mr Smith came along the fourth side of the yard balcony, the landlord and helper allowed themselves to be dashed aside, and this time with force; while with shrieking women in front of him, Mr Smith rushed on. Screams and yells, and cries, as the fugitive panted on reaching the second turn of the gallery, when hearing the gruff-voiced one close behind, he stole a look over his shoulder, and shuddered at the faint glimpse he obtained of a huge, burly figure, whose aspect made him tear on more frightened than ever, as the gruff voice roared to him to stop. But there was no stop in Mr Smith, for as the moonbeams shone through the glass at his side, he could just make out that some one was holding a door in front ajar and peeping out, when, without thinking of anything else but getting somewhere to parley with his pursuer, Mr Smith dashed at the door, sent some one staggering backwards, while he had the door banged to and locked in an instant. "For Heaven's sake, save me," gasped Mr Smith; "and excuse this intrusion, Sir." "Oh, to be sure," said a voice from the corner, where it was quite dark; "but you need not have knocked at the door so loud. You are from the moon, of course, and how did you leave Plutina and the Bluegobs?" "Wh, wh-wh-wh-what?" gasped Mr Smith. "Come to the window, Sir, and we'll enlighten the present generation; I'm the grand Porkendillo, Sir, and--" "Now, then, open this here door," growled a savage voice in the gallery.