ible, and concentrated their efforts upon the
front of their dilapidated abode. In the stable, where were stalls for
twenty horses, a miserable, old, white pony stood at an empty manger,
nibbling disconsolately at a scanty truss of hay, and frequently turning
his sunken, lack-lustre eyes expectantly towards the door. In front of
an extensive kennel, where the lord of the manor used to keep a whole
pack of hounds, a single dog, pathetically thin, lay sleeping tranquilly
and soundly, apparently so accustomed to the unbroken solitude of the
place that he had abandoned all habits of watchfulness.

Entering the chateau the visitor found himself in a broad and lofty
hall, containing a grand old staircase, with a richly carved, wooden
balustrade--a good deal broken and defaced now, like everything else
in this doleful Castle Misery. The walls had been elaborately frescoed,
representing colossal figures of Hercules supporting brackets upon which
rested the heavily ornamented cornice. Springing from it fantastic vines
climbed upward on the arched ceiling, and above them the blue sky, faded
and dingy, was grotesquely variegated with dark spots, caused by
the water filtering through from the dilapidated roof. Between the
oft-repeated figures of Hercules were frescoed niches, wherein heads
of Roman emperors and other illustrious historical characters had been
depicted in glowing tints; but all were so vague and dim now that they
were but the ghosts of pictures, which should be described with the
shadows of words--ordinary terms are too substantial to apply to them.
The very echoes in this deserted hall seemed startled and amazed as they
repeated and multiplied the unwonted sound of footsteps.

A door near the head of the first flight of stairs opened into what had
evidently been the great banqueting hall in the old days when sumptuous
repasts and numerous guests were not uncommon things in the chateau. A
huge beam divided the lofty ceiling into two compartments, which were
crossed at regular intervals by smaller joists, richly carved, and
retaining some traces of gilding. The spaces between had been originally
of a deep blue tint, almost lost now under the thick coating of dust and
spiders' webs that no housemaid's mop ever invaded. Above the grand old
chimney-piece was a noble stag's head, with huge, spreading antlers, and
on the walls hung rows of ancient family portraits, so faded and mouldy
now that most of the faces had a ghas