Great Excitement.—What is it?—Pat busy among the small Boys.—A great Supper, and a sudden Interruption.—The Midnight Knell.—General Uproar.—Flight of the Grand Panjandrum.—A solemn Time.—In the Dark.—Bold Explorers.—The Cupola, and the Abyss beneath.—The Discovery.
THAT afternoon Pat was very busy among the smaller boys. He asked them many questions about the noise in the attic, and found there was great terror among them. For the noises had been heard both on Saturday night and Sunday night by those who were in that building; and they were so terrified that they would not have staid there a third night if the other boys had not come back. A superstitious awe had settled down deep into their minds, and they conversed with one another on this subject in subdued whispers.
Pat found them in this condition, and managed to make them still more terrified before he left them. Some of them were anxious to tell one of the teachers about it all; but Pat dissuaded them by declaring that it would be of no use, and that they would only be laughed at for their pains.
Many of the other boys also, on coming back, felt a return of their former fear, and looked forward to the approach of night with some uneasiness. Pat made himself quite busy with these boys, too; and although he said nothing very directly, yet he made many mysterious hints that implied a great deal. He alluded to his own fearful position, with his bed in that very garret, separated by only a board partition from the dark haunts of the mystery. He spoke of his past experience; and it seemed as though, if he only chose, he could easily unfold a tale whose lightest word would harrow up their souls. Only he didn’t. The boys begged him to tell all. But Pat wouldn’t. He shook his head with deep and solemn meaning. And the boys looked on him with a profounder awe. And Pat, when he went up to his haunted chamber, was regarded as some poor victim on his way to his doom.
Pat, however, was not regarded in this light by all. Some there were who held aloof from this feeling of awe. Among these was Bart, who could not help noticing Pat’s movements, and was very much impressed by them, though in a way very different from that in which the other boys were affected. He saw how Pat managed to stimulate the excited imaginations of others without saying anything directly, and heard him lament most lachrymosely his hard fate in having to occupy a room in so fearful a place. He happened to be near the group to which Pat was talking, and could not help saying,—
“Well, Pat, my room’s just underneath yours, and if anything happens, you can take refuge with me. I’ll give you a sofa for the night.”
“Deed, thin, an you’ll find me comin down some night,” said Pat, “ony maybe I mightn’t iver git down there. Maybe the same thing that would dhrive me down might prevint me goin down.”
“Well, then, I’ll tell you what to do: you yell like Old Harry, and I’ll go up.”
“You’d niver get up.”
“Never get up? Why not?”
“It wouldn’t let you.”
“It? What It?”
“Why, It—the wan that walks.”
“The one that walks? That’s just what it doesn’t do. It’s very bad at walking.”
“You’d soon see, if ye’d iver find him. Any how, he’d shtop yer comin till my room.”
“Stop me? Nonsense! How can it stop me, when it’s in the cupola?”
As he said this, Bart looked in an expressive manner at Pat.
Pat looked away, and shook his head. Whether he suspected that Bart know all or not, he did not give him back any look of intelligence, or show any confusion. He simply looked away, and said,—
“Well, well,—aich wan must have his own opinion. Well know betther perhaps some day.” Bart smiled, and turned away. Soon he joined Bruce and Arthur.
“I’ve given Pat one or two hints already,” said he, “that I saw through the business, and I’ve just given him another. It’s a shame for him to go frightening the small boys that way. I was going to arrange it all to-morrow, or next day, so that they would look on it as a joke. But Pat is keeping up the gloomy, tragic character, and there’ll be more disturbance. Only he’d better look out. I’ve given him fair warning. There’s poor little Harry Thompson, with his face as pale as a sheet. It isn’t fair. It’ll have to be stopped.”
“Shall we stop it to-night?”
“Well, no; we had better wait till we see if it goes on, and whether Pat’s hand can be discerned in it. If we do find it so, I really don’t see any reason why he should be spared.”
From this it will be seen that Bart had already made his friends acquainted with the discovery which he had made in the garret, and that they had decided upon some general plan of action. They did not wish to put an end to the affair too prematurely or clumsily, but rather to terminate it in as brilliant a manner as possible.
As this day was positively the last of the holidays, the “B. O. W. C” determined to celebrate it by a modest supper in the Rawdons’ rooms. Solomon was accordingly called upon, and, as always, he showed himself equal to the occasion, Personally, he was all smiles and joyousness. His little black beads of eyes twinkled incessantly, his face actually shone, and his complexion was a rich, oily sepia. He made desperate efforts to preserve an air of profound solemnity; but occasionally a short, sharp snort of a laugh would burst forth, after which his face would at once regain its mask of gravity.
“Dar!” said he, as he put the last dish on. “Dar! blubbed breddern, dis heah’s all in hona ob dis great an shinin casium. You hab now finished your high an mighty ventures. Dar you hab bess ob ’Cad’my fare; none but de brave, you know, deserb dat fare. Off you go to lib on lasses an pork, an come back to vive you healt by de neficient car ob ole Solomon. Den off you clar agin, jes like mad, an git half starbed, so hab to come back agin to de tractions heah. An now, blubbed breddern, pitch in. Heah’s turkey, an chicken, an sass, an mince pies, an apple tarts, an pickled ’ysters, an red-hot coffee, an cream, an fifty oder tings too noomrous to mentium. Fur fudda ticulars, gemmen, see small bills. Yours, truly.”
With these words Solomon welcomed them to the feast that he had prepared. The boys seated themselves around the groaning board, and gave themselves up to the joy of the occasion. They fought their battles o’er again. They went over all the events of the holidays. Again they drifted through the dense fog, or wandered through the trackless forest; again they waded through deep waters, or dug deep in the solid ground.
As they thus chattered and laughed, Solomon stood surveying them with a beaming smile illuminating all his dark but expressive features; and all the time he kept whispering to himself words expressive of his feelings on “dat ar casium.”
Suddenly all this was interrupted.
It was late. All was still. All the other boys seemed to have gone to bed. Outside, the night was quite dark. And then and there, amid that stillness and in that darkness, it rang out right over their heads.
It was again that peculiar sound which they had once before heard, a long, shrill, abrupt, discordant shriek, repeated again and again, and echoing dismally throughout the gloomy extent of the long, unfinished garret, and dying away in the far distances with low and melancholy intonations. The ceiling above them only intervened between this room and the garret, so that they could hear it very plainly.
As the sound rang out, Solomon started. He was that moment lifting a plate, and the plate fell from his nerveless hands crashing on the floor. His face seemed to turn to a sickly greenish-brown; he staggered back, and leaned against the wall.
At that moment there was a knock at the door.
This completed Solomon’s horror. His knees gave way, his teeth chattered, his eyes rolled fearfully. He sank upon the floor, and remained there in a sitting posture.
“Come in,” shouted Bruce. “Hallo, Solomon! What’s the matter? Get up. Are you faint? Here, take a drink of water. Why, man, what’s the matter?”
Encouraged by Bruce’s words, Solomon made a great effort, and got up, edging away behind the boys as far from the-door as he could get.
No one had come in. And so Arthur went to the door, and opened it. Nobody was there.
As he stood wondering, Jiggins’s door opened, and Jiggins made his appearance, clad in the habiliments of the night.
“Hallo, Jiggins!” said Arthur. “Did you knock?”
“Me? Knock? Me? No,” said Jiggins. “I—I was just in bed, and asleep, and heard that howl above; and then there came a knock. I thought it was you, wanting to see me.”
“No; none of us knocked.”
“Somebody did, then.”
“And some one knocked at our door, too,” said Arthur.
“What does it all mean?” said Jiggins.
By this time the other boys were out in the hall, and were looking at one another. Bart looked along the floor, to see if the knock could have been produced by a stone thrown. Behind Tom might be seen Solomon, afraid to be too far............