ree, "what's in the wind now?"

"Nothing; only I choose to have another room," said Cassy, doggedly.

"And what for, pray?" said Legree.

"I choose to," said Cassy.

"The devil you do! and what for?"

"I'd like to get some sleep, now and then."

"Sleep! well, what hinders your sleeping?"

"I could tell, I suppose, if you want to hear," said Cassy, dryly.

"Speak out, you minx!" said Legree.

"O! nothing. I suppose it wouldn't disturb _you!_ Only groans, and
people scuffing, and rolling round on the barre, floor, half the night,
from twelve to morning!"

"People up garret!" said Legree, uneasily, but forcing a laugh; "who are
they, Cassy?"

Cassy raised her sharp, black eyes, and looked in the face of Legree,
with an expression that went through his bones, as she said, "To be
sure, Simon, who are they? I'd like to have _you_ tell me. You don't
know, I suppose!"

With an oath, Legree struck at her with his riding-whip; but she glided
to one side, and passed through the door, and looking back, said, "If
you'll sleep in that room, you'll know all about it. Perhaps you'd
better try it!" and then immediately she shut and locked the door.

Legree blustered and swore, and threatened to break down the door;
but apparently thought better of it, and walked uneasily into the
sitting-room. Cassy perceived that her shaft had struck home; and, from
that hour, with the most exquisite address, she never ceased to continue
the train of influences she had begun.

In a knot-hole of the garret, that had opened, she had inserted the neck
of an old bottle, in such a manner that when there was the least wind,
most doleful and lugubrious wailing sounds proceeded from it, which,
in a high wind, increased to a perfect shriek, such as to credulous and
superstitious ears might easily seem to be that of horror and despair.

These sounds were, from time to time, heard by the servants, and revived
in full force the memory of the old ghost legend. A superstitious
creeping horror seemed to fill the house; and though no one dared to
breathe it to Legree, he found himself encompassed by it, as by an
atmosphere.

No one is so thoroughly superstitious as the godless man. The Christian
is composed by the belief of a wise, all-ruling Father, whose presence
fills the void unknown with light and order; but to the man who has
dethroned God, the spirit-land is, indeed, in the words of the Hebrew
poet, "a land of darkness and the shadow of deat