He gave place to Guest, who led Miss Jerrold on and up the two flights to the broad landing, upon which the doors of Brettison's and Stratton's chambers opened. "One moment while I get my breath," panted Miss Jerrold; "I'm not so young as I used to be, Mr Guest." The admiral frowned, and stood scowling at the legend on the door, but it seemed cold and blank now, for there was no ray of sunshine to make the letters stand out clear. All looked murky and grim, and the utter silence of the place was impressive as that of a tomb. As they stood there on the landing Guest hesitated for a moment or two, an undefinable feeling of dread having attacked him; there was a curious ringing in the ears, and his heart beat with a heavy throb. He was brought back to his duty by the cold, stern voice of the admiral. "Well, Mr Guest," he said again with a cold formality of tone, "you have brought us here,"--and he waved his hand toward the door. Guest sprang forward, knocked sharply, and stood back to wait, while Miss Jerrold drew a long, hissing breath, perfectly audible in the silence. There was no response, and the chirping of the inn sparrows came painfully loud through an open window somewhere above. "What a dismal place for a man to choose," muttered Miss Jerrold. "Had you not better knock again?" Guest repeated the summons, and the admiral leaned forward, listening attentively. Still there was no reply; and, growing agitated now, Guest once more knocked loudly, with the repetition of the knocker, telling plainly of the trembling hand of him who raised it and let it fall. He drew back, to stand listening intently till Miss Jerrold spoke. "He must be out," said the lady quietly. "Knock again, Mr Guest." The knocker once more raised the echoes of the weird-looking old staircase, and then died out above with a peculiar whisper, while Guest's heart sank within his breast as a dozen fancies now took possession of him, and horror prevailed. "We cannot stay here," said Miss Jerrold. "Mr Guest, will you see me to my carriage again? Mr Stratton must be out. Gone to Bourne Square, and we have passed him on the way." "No!" thundered the admiral; "he is within there, hiding, like the cur he is, and afraid to face me!" Guest turned upon him angrily. "Come away, sister," growled the old man; "I am right." "No, sir; I swear you are wrong," cried Guest. "What? Why, I saw the change in your face, man, when I heard a rustling noise in there. You heard it too. Deny it if you can." Guest was silent for a moment, and he stood with his eyes fixed upon the letter-box, as if expecting to see the cover of the slit move. "I am not going to deny it, sir; I did hear a sound," he said. "If he is here he shall come out and face you, and tell the truth and reason of his absence. It is illness, I am sure." As he spoke he once more seized the knocker and beat out a heavy _roulade_.