“Yes, Mist’ess; zactly so, chile,” was the meek reply, as the old man, advancing his stick, groped along and struck into the narrow hidden path, leading up the ascent of the headland. “But, stop! will the baggage be safe here?” inquired Susan. “’Cisely so, honey. Dere’s nothin’ to ’sturb it,” said Uncle Neptune. “Dear lady, please take hold of my arm; the path is very steep, and slippery with the fallen leaves,” said the maid. It was now quite dark. Lady Montressor availed herself of the proffered assistance, and in a few minutes they reached the top of the headland, and stood upon a level with the ancient trees and the old house, half hidden among them, and dimly perceived through the darkness. Uncle Neptune going before, went up the steps and unlocked the door. “Take care, my lady, for the love of mercy! there is not a plank fast on these ricketty stairs,” said Susan, anxiously guiding her delicate lady’s steps up into the dilapidated portico. Old Neptune was within side the door, hammering at something that he held in his hand, and with which he presently struck a light, by means of which they saw the whole length of the old-fashioned hall; and beside the front door a tiny cupboard, from which the old man had produced a tinder-box and a candle. “Dis way, Mist’ess. ’Cisely so! Dis is the bes’ parlor,” he said, opening the door on the right, and admitting them into a large, scantily-furnished room. The single tallow-candle made the darkness here so terribly “visible,” that the old man, after standing it upon the solitary table, and dragging forward two rush-bottom chairs for the strangers, hurried out to the little cupboard, and brought three or four more candles, which he lighted, and set in a row on the mantle-piece. With this extra illumination, Susan looked critically around upon “the best parlor.” The vast dreary room had one great merit—immaculate cleanliness. The bare walls were white, the bare floor was pure. One oak table stood between the two front windows, and upon it sat the model of a frigate, under full sail—the work of Willful Brande; at equal distances around the room were ranged a half-dozen rush-bottom chairs; the wide fire-place was filled with fresh cedar boughs; on the mantle-piece were several rare sea shells, an empty ostrich egg, a whale’s tooth, a fragment of the old “Constitution,” sprays of coral, lumps of amber, and other articles collected by Captain Brande during his numerous voyages. That was all. Though this was the tenth of October, the night was very chilly, and the large room really cold. “Would you like a fire, Mist’ess?” asked Uncle Neptune. “Yes! certainly, yes! What are you thinking of? Ugh! I believe we had as well gone to Lapland,” exclaimed Susan.