Down the blank visage of the wall,
  Where many a wavering trace appears
  Like a forgotten trace of tears,
  From swollen caves the slow drops crawl.

  Where everything was wide before,
  The curious wind, that comes and goes,
  Finds all the latticed windows close,
  Secret and close the bolted door.

  And with the shrewd and curious wind,
  That in the arched doorway cries,
  And at the bolted portal tries,
  And harks and listens at the blind,—­

  Forever lurks my thought about,
  And in the ghostly middle-night
  Finds all the hidden windows bright,
  And sees the guests go in and out,—­

  And lingers till the pallid dawn,
  And feels the mystery deeper there
  In silent, gust-swept chambers, bare,
  With all the midnight revel gone;

  But wanders through the lonesome rooms,
  Where harsh the astonished cricket calls,
  And, from the hollows of the walls
  Vanishing, stare unshapen glooms;

  And lingers yet, and cannot come
  Out of the drear and desolate place,
  So full of ruin’s solemn grace,
  And haunted with the ghost of home.

THE PROFESSOR’S STORY.

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE NEWS REACHES THE DUDLEY MANSION.

Early the next morning Abel Stebbins made his appearance at Dudley Venner’s, and requested to see the maaen o’ the haouse abaout somethin’ o’ consequence.  Mr. Venner sent word that the messenger should wait below, and presently appeared in the study, where Abel was making himself at home, as is the wont of the republican citizen, when he hides the purple of empire beneath the apron of domestic service.

“Good mornin’, Squire!” said Abel, as Mr. Venner entered.  “My name’s Stebbins, ‘n’ I’m stoppin’ f’r a spell ‘ith ol’ Doctor Kittredge.”

“Well, Stebbins,” said Mr. Dudley Venner, “have you brought any special message from the Doctor?”

“Y’ ha’n’t heerd nothin’ abaout it, Squire, d’ ye mean t’ say?” said Abel,—­beginning to suspect that he was the first to bring the news of last evening’s events.

“About—­what?” asked Mr. Venner, with some interest.

“Dew tell, naow!  Waal, that beats all!  Why, that ’ere Portagee relation o’ yourn ‘z been tryin’ t’ ketch a fellah ’n a slippernoose, ‘n’ got ketched himself,—­that’s all.  Y’ ha’n’t heerd noth’n’ abaout it?”

“Sit down,” said Mr. Dudley Venner, calmly, “and tell me all you have to say.”

So Abel sat down and gave him an account of the events of the last evening.  It was a strange and terrible surprise to Dudley Venner to find that his nephew, who had been an inmate of his house and the companion of his daughter, was to all intents and purposes guilty of the gravest of crimes.  But the first shock was no sooner over than he began to think what effect the news would have on Elsie.  He imagined that there was a kind of friendly feeling between them, and he feared some crisis would be provoked in his daughter’s mental condition by the discovery.  He would wait, however, until she came from her chamber, before disturbing her with the evil tidings.