he surface of something hard and
smooth. These I dragged outwards, and laid the surface bare; and then I
ran my fingers over it. I perceived that it was some kind of wood, but
polished till it was as slippery as glass. It felt to the touch just
like the surface of a mahogany table; and I might have mistaken it for
one, but on rapping it with my knuckles, it gave forth that same ringing
hollow sound I had already noticed. Striking it with still greater
violence, I could hear a prolonged musical vibration, that reminded me
of an Eolian harp.

But I had now become aware of the nature of this huge object. It was a
_Pianoforte_. I had seen one like it before. One used to stand in the
corner of our little parlour, upon which my mother often made most
beautiful music. Yes, the object whose broad smooth surface now barred
my way, was neither more nor less than a _Piano_.

CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT.

TURNING THE PIANO.

It was with unpleasant feelings I arrived at this knowledge. Beyond
doubt, the piano would be a difficult obstacle, if not a complete
barrier, to my further progress in that direction. It was evidently one
of the grandest of "grand pianos," far larger than the one I remembered
to have stood in my mother's cottage parlour. Its upper side, or table,
was towards me, for it had been placed upon its edge; and I could tell
by the echo given back to my blows that this table was a piece of
mahogany of an inch or more in thickness. It appeared, moreover, to
consist of one solid board, for I could feel no crack or joining over
its whole extent; and to get through this board, therefore, a hole would
have to be made by sheer cutting and carving.

With such a tool as I handled, to make a hole big enough to creep
through, even had it been common deal, would have been a work of no
ordinary magnitude; but through a solid plank of mahogany doubly
hardened by a process of staining and polishing, was a task that
appalled me.

Besides, even could I succeed in doing so--even could I cut through the
table-top--which, though a severe and tedious labour, would not have
been impossible--what then? There were all the inside works to be got
out. I knew little of the arrangement of the interior. I only
remembered having observed a great many pieces of black and white ivory;
and vast numbers of strong wire strings. There were shelves too, and
pieces that ran lengthwise, and upright pieces, and then the pedals--all
of wh