"But how do you get the thing open?" asked Will, flashing the light of his
lantern upon the door.

"I will open it," said Aunt Stanshy, who now appeared, and already decided
that the door might be consistently opened for a good deed's sake. She
carried a hammer in her hand, which she energetically swung about the
driven nails, soon removing them. Then she threw back the door, and out
into the black night peered anxiously. How long it had been since the last
time that she had looked out from that door! She could see nothing at
first, but in a moment made out a man's form below. As the rays of Aunt
Stanshy's lamp shone out, they made a bridge of light that stretched off
into the mist, as if anxious to reach the river and bridge it for some
poor, helpless soul in the water.

"Say, friend, you down there?" called out Will.

A voice below answered, "Yesh--hic--I'll help you--up--"

"You will? Better let me help you first."

"Shuit yourself--hic."

Will descended the steps, and found the man leaning against the dock-wall.

"Now, friend, we'll climb these stairs."

"I will--help you--hic--yes--up."

"You are very kind, but let me help you first. Now go it! Tough! You don't