you not. Where is it?"

Blanche.--"Upstairs, to the left."

Pisistratus.--"That little old door, going down two stone steps, which
is always kept locked?"

Blanche.--"Yes; it is not locked to-day. The door was ajar, and I
peeped in; but I would not do more till I came and asked you if you
thought it would not be wrong."

Pisistratus.--"Very good in you, my discreet little cousin. I have no
doubt it is a ghost-trap; however, with Juba's protection, I think we
might venture together."

Pisistratus, Blanche, and Juba ascend the stairs, and turn off down a
dark passage to the left, away from the rooms in use. We reach the
arch-pointed door of oak planks nailed roughly together, we push it
open, and perceive that a small stair winds down from the room,--it is
just over Roland's chamber.

The room has a damp smell, and has probably been left open to be aired;
for the wind comes through the unbarred casement, and a billet barns on
the Hearth. The place has that attractive, fascinating air which
belongs to a lumber-room,--than which I know nothing that so captivates
the interest and fancy of young people. What treasures, to them, often
lie hid in those quaint odds and ends which the elder generations have
discarded as rubbish! All children are by nature antiquarians and
relic-hunters. Still, there is an order and precision with which the
articles in that room are stowed away that belies the true notion of