"Oh! I heerd a gun go off, un guns ain't common at 9 o'clock at night. An' I thought I saw a flicker uv light in our loft jus' now, but it went out as soon as the gun went off. It made me feel creepy, like the house was ha'nted." And she again began to look on the mantel-piece for the lost bit of candle which she was loath to give up. "I'm a-goin' to bed," said Zeke, "ghos's ur no ghos's"; and he again mounted the ladder. After he had lain on the bed with his clothes on for an hour, keeping himself awake with difficulty, he felt sure that the old couple below stairs must be sound asleep. He softly opened the square window, the wooden shutter of which made no sound, as it swung on hinges of leather cut from an ancient boot-top. Then he climbed out on the projecting ends of the sticks which composed the chimney, and cautiously descended to the ground. "Cyrus!" said Mrs. Britton to her husband; "didn't you hear that noise?" "What noise?" "That scratchin' kind-uh noise inside of the chimbley." "No, I don't hear nothin'"; and the old man made haste to resume his sleep where he had left off. "I do believe this house is ha'nted," sighed Mrs. Britton to herself. The next morning when she woke up she called out, according to her wont, to the hired man in the loft: "Zeke! Zeke! O Zeke!" She got no reply. Vexed of all things that a hired man should lose a minute of time, she called again in vain. A minute later she was about to get up and go to the ladder so as to be better heard, when there came to her the sound of Zeke chopping wood at the back door. "Well, ef the world ain't a-comin' to 'n end, when Zeke Tucker gits up an' goes to choppin' of 'is own accord!" When Zeke came in to breakfast, she said: "You're out bright and airly this mornin." "Yes; I could n' sleep." "D' you hear that scratchin' in the chimbley?" "Ya-as," said Zeke, with hesitation. He was relieved that the conversation should be broken at this point by the entrance of the old man from the stable. "Zeke," said Britton, as he drew his chair to the table, "what's the matter with ole Gray?" "I never noticed nothin' when I gin him 'is oats. But 't wuzn't fa'rly light then." "He's been rode. They's sweat marks onto him, un the saddle's wet yet."