Pat, however, was not regarded in this light by all. Some there were who held aloof from this feeling of awe. Among these was Bart, who could not help noticing Pat’s movements, and was very much impressed by them, though in a way very different from that in which the other boys were affected. He saw how Pat managed to stimulate the excited imaginations of others without saying anything directly, and heard him lament most lachrymosely his hard fate in having to occupy a room in so fearful a place. He happened to be near the group to which Pat was talking, and could not help saying,-- “Well, Pat, my room’s just underneath yours, and if anything happens, you can take refuge with me. I’ll give you a sofa for the night.” “Deed, thin, an you’ll find me comin down some night,” said Pat, “ony maybe I mightn’t iver git down there. Maybe the same thing that would dhrive me down might prevint me goin down.” “Well, then, I’ll tell you what to do: you yell like Old Harry, and I’ll go up.” “You’d niver get up.” “Never get up? Why not?” “It wouldn’t let you.” “It? What It?” “Why, It--the wan that walks.” “The one that walks? That’s just what it doesn’t do. It’s very bad at walking.” “You’d soon see, if ye’d iver find him. Any how, he’d shtop yer comin till my room.” “Stop me? Nonsense! How can it stop me, when it’s in the cupola?” As he said this, Bart looked in an expressive manner at Pat. Pat looked away, and shook his head. Whether he suspected that Bart know all or not, he did not give him back any look of intelligence, or show any confusion. He simply looked away, and said,-- “Well, well,--aich wan must have his own opinion. Well know betther perhaps some day.” Bart smiled, and turned away. Soon he joined Bruce and Arthur. “I’ve given Pat one or two hints already,” said he, “that I saw through the business, and I’ve just given him another. It’s a shame for him to go frightening the small boys that way. I was going to arrange it all to-morrow, or next day, so that they would look on it as a joke. But Pat is keeping up the gloomy, tragic character, and there’ll be more disturbance. Only he’d better look out. I’ve given him fair warning. There’s poor little Harry Thompson, with his face as pale as a sheet. It isn’t fair. It’ll have to be stopped.” “Shall we stop it to-night?” “Well, no; we had better wait till we see if it goes on, and whether Pat’s hand can be discerned in it. If we do find it so, I really don’t see any reason why he should be spared.” From this it will be seen that Bart had already made his friends acquainted with the discovery which he had made in the garret, and that they had decided upon some general plan of action. They did not wish to put an end to the affair too prematurely or clumsily, but rather to terminate it in as brilliant a manner as possible.