Arthur grasped his iron bar, but stood motionless as stone, awaiting the assault of the ruffian. "Dat you Dirk?" continued Slung-Shot, rolling his eyes with a drunken stare; "why de thunder don't you let a feller sleep?--" and then came a round of oaths, uttered in that peculiar dialect, with the lower-jaw elongated and the head shaking briskly, from side to side. After which Slung-Shot sank to sleep again. He had mistaken Arthur for his comrade. Arthur lifted the latch, and in a moment was ascending the narrow staircase, which led to the hall on the first floor. At the head of the stair was a door, which he opened, and found himself on a carpeted floor, but in utter darkness. He could hear the beating of his heart, as pausing in the thick darkness, he bent his head and listened. Not a sound was heard throughout the mansion. What should be his next step? Enter the parlor on the first floor or ascend the stairway? "If Alice is concealed within these walls, she must be in one of the rooms up-stairs," he thought, and felt his way toward the staircase. Presently, his hand encountered the banisters, and he began cautiously to ascend to the second floor. Arrived at the head of the stairs, he stopped again and listened: not a sound was heard. Torn as he was by suspense, the cold sweat started upon his forehead: he folded his cloak carefully around his left arm, and grasping the iron bar with his right hand, he listened once more. The house was as soundless, as though a human voice or footstep had never been heard within its walls. At this moment Arthur was assailed by a terrible doubt-- "What if it should be all a dream?--Barnhurst may be innocent, and as for Alice, she may be at this moment, a hundred miles away! Nay, this house may be the residence of a peaceful family, and have nothing to do with Madam Resimer or her crimes--" He was shaken by the doubt. Turning in the darkness, he began to descend the stairs-- "Ha! The ruffian in the cellar confirms the story of the policeman who led me here, and who stated that this was the house of Madam Resimer;" this thought flashed over him and arrested his steps. "I'll not retreat until my suspicions are confirmed or put to rest." He turned again, and feeling his way up the stairs, and along the hall of the second floor, he began to ascend the second stairway. At the top he paused and listened--all was silent--not a whisper, nor the echo of a sound. Then stretching forth his hand he discovered that at a short distance beyond the stairway, another staircase led upward to the fourth floor. He also came to the conclusion, that from near the top of the stairway, even where he stood, a long and narrow passage led into some remote part of the mansion. For a moment he was at fault. Should he ascend the third stairway to the fourth floor, or should he traverse the long and narrow passage? "I will ascend to the fourth floor," he thought, when he was arrested by a sound.