half ruin, half residence, standing on an eminence hard by.

Somerset stopped to examine it. The castle was not
exceptionally large, but it had all the characteristics of its
most important fellows. Irregular, dilapidated, and muffled
in creepers as a great portion of it was, some part--a
comparatively modern wing--was inhabited, for a light or two
steadily gleamed from some upper windows; in others a
reflection of the moon denoted that unbroken glass yet filled
their casements. Over all rose the keep, a square solid tower
apparently not much injured by wars or weather, and darkened
with ivy on one side, wherein wings could be heard flapping
uncertainly, as if they belonged to a bird unable to find a
proper perch. Hissing noises supervened, and then a hoot,
proclaiming that a brood of young owls were residing there in
the company of older ones. In spite of the habitable and more
modern wing, neglect and decay had set their mark upon the
outworks of the pile, unfitting them for a more positive light
than that of the present hour.

He walked up to a modern arch spanning the ditch--now dry and
green--over which the drawbridge once had swung. The large
door under the porter's archway was closed and locked. While
standing here the singing of the wire, which for the last few
minutes he had quite forgotten, again struck upon his ear, and
retreating to a convenient place he observed its final course:
from the poles amid the trees it leaped across the moat, over
the girdling wall, and thence by a tremendous stretch towards
the keep where, to judge by sound, it vanished through an
arrow-slit into the interior. This fossil of feudalism, then,