With a dismal disregard for their suspense the minutes
dragged infinitely slowly. The flask was finished;
the candle guttered and flickered ominously; the very
shadows grew restless.

"There's a lot of secret doors and such like in this
part of the house--let's hope there'll be nothing coming
through one of them," said Mr. Gallosh in a breaking voice.

The Baron muttered an inaudible reply, and then
with a start their shoulders bumped together.

"Damn it, what's yon!" whispered Mr. Gallosh.

"Ze pipes! Gallosh, how beastly he does play!"

In point of fact the air seemed to consist of only
one wailing note.

"Bong!"--they heard the first stroke of midnight
on the big clock on the Castle Tower; and so unfortunately
had Count Bunker timed the candle that on the
instant its flame expired.

"Vithdraw ze curtains!" gasped the Baron.

"I canna, my lord! Oh, I canna!" wailed Mr.
Gallosh, breaking out into his broadest native Scotch.

This time the Baron made no movement, and in the