This important matter having been settled, Uncle Ith pointed out to Pet all the interesting objects to be seen from the tower, and adjusted the spyglass for her, and gave her near views of Governor’s Island, the Palisades, and other remote objects.  He also explained to her the process of striking the bell by means of the long iron lever, and told her that, if she would wait there long enough, she could hear how the big chap sounded ten feet away.  Pet put her hands to her ears, in anticipation of the stunning noise, and laughingly said that she didn’t think she would wait long.

CHAPTER II.

THE LAST OF A MYSTERY.

After Pet had looked at all the objects of interest visible from the bell tower—­Uncle Ith pointing them out with the pride of an owner—­Bog called Pet aside, and said, “Now, Uncle Ith, I have something to show her that I used to think most interesting of all.”

Pet rested her hand upon his arm, and gazed through the southeastern window, in the direction indicated by Bog’s forefinger.

“Right there,” said he, “midway between those two tall chimneys, and a trifle south of the line of that steeple—­the last two windows in the upper story of that old house—­do you see them?”

Pet looked along his outstretched arm, to get the precise direction, and then said, hurriedly, “It is my old home.”

The sight of those familiar windows, in which the calico curtains still hung, recalled the horrid vision of that dreadful night.  Pet turned pale, and shuddered.  “Let us look elsewhere, Bog,” said she.

“I beg your pardon, dearest; but I wanted to tell you how many hours I had spent in this cupola, day and night, gazing at those two windows, and feeling, oh, so happy! if I could but catch a glimpse of you or your shadow.  But I never told Uncle Ith about it.”

Uncle Ith had not overheard this conversation, but he had followed with his eyes the direction pointed out by Bog.  As the young couple stepped back from the window, he said: 

“I see some strange sights occasionally, my children” (he was fond of calling young people his children), “I can tell you.  There are a couple of windows, in the upper story of that old brick house, between the two big chimneys, that used to interest me some.”

“We see them,” said Bog and Pet.

“About five years back, I began to notice lights burnin’ in that room, long after all other lights, except the street lamps, was put out.  Of course, this attracted my attention, and I used to feel a queer kind of pleasure in looking into the room with my spyglass, and wonderin’ what was goin’ on there.  The curtains were usually drawn over the lower sashes; but, this tower bein’ fifty or sixty feet higher than the house, I could look over the top of the curtains, and see somethin’.  An old man, tall and slim, and a young girl, ’peared to be the only folks that lived there.  Are you sick, young lady?” said he, observing that Pet looked pale.