Behold, then, the venerable clergyman ascending the steps of the mansion, with a torch-bearer behind him. It was the elderly man, who had spoken to the Old Maid, and the same who had afterwards explained the shield of arms, and recognised the features of the negro. Like their predecessors, they gave three raps, with the iron hammer.
'Old Cæsar cometh not, observed the priest. 'Well, I wot, he no longer doth service in this mansion.'
'Assuredly, then, it was something worse, in old Cæsar's likeness!' said the other adventurer.
'Be it as God wills,' answered the clergyman. 'See! my strength, though it be much decayed, hath sufficed to open this heavy door. Let us enter, and pass up the staircase.'
Here occurred a singular exemplification of the dreamy state of a very old man's mind. As they ascended the wide flight of stairs, the aged clergyman appeared to move with caution, occasionally standing aside, and oftener bending his head, as it were in salutation, thus practising all the gestures of one who makes his way through a throng. Reaching the head of the staircase, he looked around, with sad and solemn benignity, laid aside his staff, bared his hoary locks, and was evidently on the point of commencing a prayer.
'Reverend Sir,' said his attendant, who conceived this a very suitable prelude to their further search, 'would it not be well, that the people join with us in prayer?'
'Well-a-day!' cried the old clergyman, staring strangely around him. 'Art thou here with me, and
