“We will all go and see you safely in,” said the inmates, “but you must excuse us if we don’t share the dangers with you. We’ve had enough of ghosts and skeletons in our time about here.” “Oh, certainly,” was Ned’s careless answer, “much obliged to you for your kind offer.” All was ready, and Tim had just returned with the pistols, upon which, the whole party having bid good-night to the landlady, sallied forth about half-past twelve. The rain had not entirely ceased, and the night, to use the sexton’s expression, was dark as the parish vaults. The landlord walked first with a huge lantern, the reflection of which upon the wet stones formed a striking contrast with the surrounding objects. After him came Ned Warbeck, between the sexton and the blacksmith. Tim brought up the rear with the rest of the party. They having arrived at the “haunted house,” the landlord soon applied to the door a key of vast dimensions. It creaked on its hinges, with a harsh noise, as if forboding some calamity. They all went up a few steps, looking cautiously around them, and came at last to a small apartment on the first floor. This was to be the scene of action. The landlord in a moment raised a sparkling flame on the hearth, and placed a table near it, with the refreshments already described upon it. After having made his guests as comfortable as the place would allow, the host departed with his companions. The young officer let them out with strict injunctions to the landlord to take great care of his horses; then, shutting the door, he put the key in his pocket, and prepared himself to meet with courage whatever might happen. Young midshipman (or as he now was Lieutenant) Ned’s first step was to search the apartment. But all his own and Master Tim’s endeavours to find an intruder were useless. Three cupboards were divested of their contents, and the old tapestry, which served as wainscoting, was lifted up. But all to no purpose. They then proceeded to the room above, which underwent the same examination. They looked into every corner likely to conceal a man. Finally, tired of a fruitless search, they returned to the comforts of their own fireside. But judge of their astonishment at finding the candle removed from its place, and also extinguished!! After a short pause, however, Ned attributed it to the wind which arose from the opening or shutting of the door. Ned Warbeck remembered the candle before he left the room again, not wishing, he said, to leave two such irreconcilable enemies near one another in their absence; meaning the brandy-bottle and candle. Satisfied that nothing could now disturb them, Ned took a seat near the fire, and desired Tim to do the same, who, nothing loth, obeyed the mandate. He drew the cork from the bottle, and loaded his pipe. His master, for greater safety, examined the primings of the pistols, and, giving them a fresh supply from the powder-horn, laid them on the table by the side of his naked sword.