With this dreadful sound in his ears, Barnabas hurried away from

that place of horror; but ever the sound pursued him, it echoed in

his step, it panted in his quickened breathing, it throbbed in the

pulsing of his heart. Wherever he looked, there always was Jasper

Gaunt lolling in his chair with his head dangling at its horrible

angle,--the very night was full of him.

Hot-foot went Barnabas, by dingy streets and silent houses, and with

his chin now on one shoulder, now on the other; and thus, he

presently found himself before a certain door and, remembering its

faulty catch, tried it but found it fast. Therefore he knocked,

softly at first, but louder and louder until at length the door was

plucked suddenly open and a woman appeared, a slatternly creature

who bore a candle none too steadily.

"Now then, owdacious," she began, somewhat slurring of speech.

"What d'ye want--this time o' night--knocking at 'spectable door of

a person?"

"Is Mr. Barrymaine in?"

"Mist' Barrymaine?" repeated the woman, scattering grease-spots as

she raised the candle in her unsteady hand, "what d'ye wan' this

time o'--"

Here, becoming aware of the magnificence of the visitor's attire,

she dropped Barnabas a floundering curtsy and showered the step with

grease-spots.

"Can I see Mr. Barrymaine?"

"Yes, sir--this way, sir, an' min' the step, sir. See Mist'

Barrymaine, yes, sir, firs' floor--an' would you be so good as to ax

'im to keep 'is feet still, or, as you might say, 'is trotters, sir--"

"His feet?"

"Also 'is legs, sir, if you'd be so very obleeging, sir."

"What do you mean?"

"Come an' listen, sir!" So saying, the woman opened a door and stood

with a finger pointing unsteadily upwards. "Been a-doing of it ever

since 'e came in a hour ago. It ain't loud, p'r'aps, but it's

worriting--very worriting. If 'e wants to dance 'e might move about a

bit 'stead o' keeping in one place all the time--'ark!" And she

pointed with her quavering finger to a certain part of the ceiling

whence came the tramp! tramp! of restless feet; and yet the feet

never moved away.

"I'll go up!" said Barnabas, and, nodding to the slatternly woman,

he hurried along the passage and mounting the dark stair, paused

before a dingy door. Now, setting his ear to the panel, he heard a

sound--a muffled sound, hoarse but continuous, ever and anon rising

to a wail only to sink again, yet never quite ceasing. Then, feeling

the door yield to his hand, Barnabas opened it and, stepping softly

into the room, closed it behind him.

The place was very dark, except where the moon sent a fugitive beam

through the uncurtained window, and face downward across this pale

light lay a huddled figure from whose unseen lips the sounds

issued--long, awful, gasping sobs; a figure that stirred and writhed

like one in torment, whose clenched hands beat themselves upon the

frayed carpet, while, between the sobbing and the beat of those

clenched hands, came broken prayers intermingled with oaths and

moaning protestations.




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