Apostrophizing the monks in these terms, and evidently regretting that he had not lived himself in those good old times, the veteran led the way back through the rooms.  On the return passage across “Freeze-your-Bones,” Magdalen preceded him.  “She’s as straight as a poplar,” mumbled old Mazey to himself, hobbling along after his youthful companion, and wagging his venerable head in cordial approval.  “I never was particular what nation they belonged to; but I always did like ’em straight and fine grown, and I always shall like ’em straight and fine grown, to my dying day.”

“Are there more rooms to see upstairs, on the second floor?” asked Magdalen, when they had returned to the point from which they had started.

The naturally clear, distinct tones of her voice had hitherto reached the old sailor’s imperfect sense of hearing easily enough.  Rather to her surprise, he became stone deaf on a sudden, to her last question.

“Are you sure of your Pints of the Compass?” he inquired.  “If you’re not sure, put your back ag’in the wall, and we’ll go all over ’em again, my dear, beginning with the Noathe.”

Magdalen assured him that she felt quite familiar, by this time, with all the points, the “Noathe” included; and then repeated her question in louder tones.  The veteran obstinately matched her by becoming deafer than ever.

“Yes, my dear,” he said, “you’re right; it is chilly in these passages; and unless I go back to my fire, my fire’ll go out—­won’t it?  If you don’t feel sure of your Pints of the Compass, come in to me and I’ll put you right again.”  He winked benevolently, whistled to the dogs, and hobbled off.  Magdalen heard him chuckle over his own success in balking her curiosity on the subject of the second floor.  “I know how to deal with ’em!” said old Mazey to himself, in high triumph.  “Tall and short, native and foreign, sweethearts and wives—­I know how to deal with ’em!”

Left by herself, Magdalen exemplified the excellence of the old sailor’s method of treatment, in her particular case, by ascending the stairs immediately, to make her own observations on the second floor.  The stone passage here was exactly similar, except that more doors opened out of it, to the passage on the first floor.  She opened the two nearest doors, one after another, at a venture, and discovered that both rooms were bed-chambers.  The fear of being discovered by one of the woman-servants in a part of the house with which she had no concern, warned her not to push her investigations on the bedroom floor too far at starting.  She hurriedly walked down the passage to see where it ended, discovered that it came to its termination in a lumber-room, answering to the position of the vestibule downstairs, and retraced her steps immediately.