neighbouring house, and she did not attend to me. I pressed my forehead
more closely against the bars of the balcony, and strained my eyes more
eagerly towards the object of my curiosity. Presently the figure of the
lamp-lighter with his blazing torch in one hand, and his ladder in the
other, became visible; and, with as much delight as philosopher ever
enjoyed in discovering the cause of a new and grand phenomenon, I watched
his operations. I saw him fix and mount his ladder with his little black
pot swinging from his arm, and his red smoking torch waving with
astonishing velocity, as he ran up and down the ladder. Just when he
reached the ground, being then within a few yards of our house, his torch
flared on the face and figure of an old man with a long white beard and a
dark visage, who, holding a great bag slung over one shoulder, walked
slowly on, repeating in a low, abrupt, mysterious tone, the cry of "Old
clothes! Old clothes! Old clothes!" I could not understand the words he
said, but as he looked up at our balcony he saw me--smiled--and I remember
thinking that he had a good-natured countenance. The maid nodded to him; he
stood still, and at the same instant she seized upon me, exclaiming, "Time
for you to come off to bed, Master Harrington."

I resisted, and, clinging to the rails, began kicking and roaring.

"If you don't come quietly this minute, Master Harrington," said she, "I'll
call to Simon the Jew there," pointing to him, "and he shall come up and
carry you away in his great bag."

The old man's eyes were upon me; and to my fancy the look of his eyes and
his whole face had changed in an instant. I was struck with terror--my
hands let go their grasp--and I suffered myself to be carried off as
quietly as my maid could desire. She hurried and huddled me into bed, bid
me go to sleep, and ran down stairs. To sleep I could not go, but full of