“But, there must have been more than this,” said Thankful.  “What, became of it?”

Captain Obed shook his head.  “You might ask Chris Badger,” he suggested.  “Chris sells antiques on the side—­the high side.”

“Did old Mr. Eldredge live here all alone?” asked Emily.

“Yup.  And died all alone, too.  Course I don’t mean he was alone all the time he was sick.  Most of that time he was out of his head and folks could stay with him, but he came to himself occasional and when he did he’d fire ’em out because feedin’ ’em cost money.  He wa’n’t what you’d call generous, Laban wa’n’t.”

“Where did he die?” asked Thankful, who was looking out of the window.

“Upstairs in the little back bedroom.  Smallest room in the house ’tis, and folks used to say he slept there ’cause he could heat it by his cussin’ instead of a stove.  ‘Most always cussin’, he was—­cussin’ and groanin’.”

Thankful was silent.  Emily said:  “Groaning?  You mean he groaned when he was ill?”

“Yes, and when he was well, too.  A habit of his, groanin’ was.  I don’t know why he done it—­see himself in the lookin’-glass, maybe; that was enough to make anybody groan.  He’d groan in his sleep—­or snore—­or both.  He was the noisiest sleeper ever I set up with.  Shall we go upstairs?”

The narrow front stairs creaked as loudly in the daytime as they had on the previous night, but the long hall on the upper floor was neither dark nor terrifying.  Nevertheless it was with just a suspicion of dread that Mrs. Barnes approached the large room at the end of the hall and the small one adjoining it.  Her common-sense had returned and she was naturally brave, but an experience such as hers had been is not forgotten in a few hours.  However, she was determined that no one should know her feelings; therefore she was the first to enter the little room.

“Here’s where Laban bunked,” said the captain.  “You’d think with all the big comf’table bedrooms to choose from he wouldn’t pick out this two-by-four, would you?  But he did, probably because nobody else would.  He was a contrary old rooster, and odd as Dick’s hat-band.”

Thankful was listening, although not to their guide’s remarks.  She was listening for sounds such as she had heard—­or thought she had heard—­on the occasion of her previous visit to that room.  But there were no such sounds.  There was the bed, the patchwork comforter, the chair and the pictures on the walls, but when she approached that bed there came no disturbing groans.  And, by day, the memory of her fright seemed absolutely ridiculous.  For at least the tenth time she solemnly resolved that no one should ever know how foolish she had been.

Emily uttered an exclamation and pointed.

“Why, Auntie!” she cried.  “Isn’t that—­where did that lantern come from?”

Captain Obed looked where she was pointing.  He stepped forward and picked up the overturned lantern.