And oh, if you'd escape from Hades,
Lord Tulliwuddle, 'ware the ladies!"


The spirit vanished as magically as he had appeared,
and with this solemn warning ringing in his ears, the
Baron found himself in inky darkness again. This
time he did not hesitate to grope madly for the door,
but hardly had he reached it, when, with a fresh sensation
of horror, he stumbled upon a writhing form that
seemed to be pawing the panels. He was, fortunately;
as quickly reassured by hearing the voice of Mr. Gallosh
exclaim in terrified accents--

"I canna find the haundle! Oh, Gosh, where's the
haundle?"

Being the less frenzied of the two, the Baron did
succeed in finding the handle, and with a gasp of relief
burst into the lighted anteroom. The piper had
already departed, and evidently in haste, since he had
left some portion of a bottle of whisky unfinished.
This fortunate circumstance enabled them to recover
something of their color, though, even when he felt his
blood warming again, Mr. Gallosh could scarcely speak
coherently of his terrible ordeal.

"What an awfu' night! what an awfu' night!" he
murmured. "Oh, my lord, let's get out of this!"