the central portion of the room; and this central portion held
nothing out of the common--nothing to explain the mysteries of the
dwelling or the apprehensions of its suspicious owner. With a
sigh, the sergeant dropped his eyes from the walls he could barely
distinguish, and following Judge Ostrander's lead, passed with him
under the torn folds of the curtain and through the narrow
vestibule whose door was made of iron, into the room, where, in a
stronger blaze of light than they had left, lay the body of the
dead negro awaiting the last rites.

Would the judge pass this body, or turn away from it towards a
door leading front? The sergeant had come in at the rear, but he
greatly desired to go out front, as this would give him so much
additional knowledge of the house. Unexpectedly to himself, the
judge's intentions were in the direction of his own wishes. He was
led front; and, entering an old-fashioned hall dimly lighted,
passed a staircase and two closed doors, both of which gave him
the impression of having been shut upon a past it had pleasured no
one to revive in many years.

Beyond them was the great front door of Colonial style and
workmanship, a fine specimen once, but greatly disfigured now by
the bolts and bars which had been added to it in satisfaction of
the judge's ideas of security.

Many years had passed since Judge Ostrander had played the host;
but he had not lost a sense of its obligations. It was for him to
shoot the bolts and lift the bars; but he went about it so
clumsily and with such evident aversion to the task, that the
sergeant instinctively sprang to help him.