"Ha!" ejaculated the old man, with all the enjoyment of a connoisseur, as he again carefully lifted a bottle with its lime-wash mark across the end. "No, no, Mrs Hampton, you must not have it all your own way. Gertie, my dear, if I stand that up I shall spoil it. Would you mind carrying this bottle by the neck?" "Oh, no; I'll carry it," she said hastily, as if eager to get out of the crypt-like place. "I have it. Oh, Bruno, Bruno!" she exclaimed, as another low, deep howl, from apparently close at hand, reached their ears. "You had better take a bottle of the old Burgundy, too, Mr Hampton." "Well, yes; perhaps I might as well, Gertie; but I shall use you as a buttress against Mrs Hampton's wrath." "Oh, yes," cried Gertrude laughingly, "I'll defend you. That's the bin--the Chambertin." "Prince of wines," muttered the old man, crossing to the bin his companion had pointed out, while his shadow cast by the candle she held was thrown upon ceiling and wall in a peculiarly grotesque fashion, as if he were the goblin of the cave. "Now," he said, as he carefully placed the bottle in the basket, "we shall be all right, even if George comes back. Bless my soul! what's that?" For Gertrude uttered a wild shriek, there was a crash, and they were in utter darkness. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. A GENTLEMAN TO SEE GERTRUDE. "Great Heavens! my child, what is the matter?" "Nothing, nothing, Mr Hampton," cried Gertrude. "Something touched my hand. Oh, Bruno, you bad dog, how you frightened me!" The cry brought Mrs Denton to the door, and she hurried away directly to return with a light, just as the dog set up another mournful howl which echoed dismally in the gloomy ranges of cellars. As the light shone in, the old woman holding it high above her head, Gertrude was clinging to the old lawyer's arm, and the dog was crouched in the sawdust close to the broken bottle of port, whose rich contents had made a broad stain upon the floor. "Well," said the old man, "I must not scold you, my dear, for being startled, but you made me jump. Come along." "No, no," said Gertrude hastily. "You must reach down another bottle of port." "What, after we have wasted one!" Gertrude responded by taking the candle from Mrs Denton's hand, and fetching another bottle from the bin, the dog following her uneasily, whining and tottering on his legs, and showing great unwillingness to follow, till Gertrude coaxed him back to his bed in the corner of the hall, after the cellar had been duly locked up, and the keys replaced in the cabinet drawer. "I suppose we must blame George Harrington for upsetting us, and making us so nervous," said Mrs Hampton, with a forced laugh, as Gertrude re-entered the drawing-room; "but, good gracious, child! there's a dress! You look as if you had been committing a murder." Gertrude turned ghastly pale, and looked down at her soft, light dress, which was splashed and stained in great patches with the wine. "Mrs Hampton!"