Lord Montressor took the hand of the old man, and with a wildly throbbing heart, that all his resolution could not quiet, followed. A few moments more—a few swift, vital moments more and he should see her—should hear her speak—should clasp her living hand! Oh! wild impatient heart be still—be still—it is but an instant, and then! and then! They toiled up the bank; they reached the top, and then the old trees waving in the night wind, and the old house looming in the darkness, stood before them. A gloomy, foreboding, funereal atmosphere overshadowed the place. Hope sickened as she looked upon the scene. “It is as dark as Erebus! There is not a light to be seen in all the house, and not a sound to be heard without. I hope the mistress and her maid have not yet retired,” said Lord Montressor, uneasily. “Oh, no, sir! I think not. The lady’s chamber, which is also her usual sitting-room, and the maid’s kitchen, are both in the back part of the building. I will ring.” And going up the rickety steps of the portico, Barbara rang a peal, and waited a minute—two minutes—but no advancing light was seen; no coming step was heard. She rang louder. Ting-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling! The peal was re-echoed through the great, desolate house, with a strange, vacant, hollow reverberation! Then followed a dead silence; they waited anxiously and tried in the darkness to read the expression in each other’s faces. Three minutes passed like an age, and Barbara pulled the bell-handle with all her strength. Ting! a-ling! a-ling! a-ling! A-LANG! A-LANG! LANG! It sounded through the vast gloomy house with a clamor and a clangor loud enough to rouse the old dead ancestors in the burial-ground beyond; it awoke nothing but the dreary, wailing, ghostly echo! Five minutes of anxious waiting, peering and listening, passed, and then Barbara jerked the bell-handle a third time, with peril to the ropes. CLANG! A-RANG! A-RANG! RANG! RANG! RANG! RANG! It seemed enough to have shaken the old chimneys to their base, and started the slates from the roof! But only the phantom Echo was within to wail forth her weird response! They looked at each other, with dimly visible, troubled white faces, gleaming faintly in the surrounding darkness For some moments, no one spoke; each seemed fearful to give voice to his or her forebodings. Had Death been there before them, and forever set the seal of the grave upon Estelle’s earthly fate, and rendered vain, as far as life was concerned, her father’s late relenting? Lord Montressor’s deep troubled voice first broke the silence. “Miss Brande, what think you of this?” “I dare not yet think,” replied Barbara, in a tremulous tone; “but we will go around to the back part of the house, and see if we can discover any thing.”