t was
determined that he should mount guard that very night. His only
stipulation was, that the enterprise should be kept secret from his
mother; for he knew the poor soul would not sleep a wink, if she knew
that her son was waging war with the powers of darkness.

When night came on, he set out on this perilous expedition. The old
black cook, his only friend in the household, had provided him with a
little mess for supper, and a rushlight; and she tied round his neck
an amulet, given her by an African conjurer, as a charm against evil
spirits. Dolph was escorted on his way by the doctor and Peter de
Groodt, who had agreed to accompany him to the house, and to see him
safe lodged. The night was overcast, and it was very dark when they
arrived at the grounds which surrounded the mansion. The sexton led
the way with a lantern. As they walked along the avenue of acacias,
the fitful light, catching from bush to bush, and tree to tree, often
startled the doughty Peter, and made him, fall back upon his
followers; and the doctor grabbed still closer hold of Dolph's arm,
observing that the ground was very slippery and uneven. At one time
they were nearly put to a total rout by a bat, which came flitting
about the lantern; and the notes of the insects from the trees, and
the frogs from a neighbouring pond, formed a most drowsy and doleful
concert.

The front door of the mansion opened with a grating sound, that made
the doctor turn pale. They entered a tolerably large hall, such as is
common in American country-houses, and which serves for a sitting-room
in warm weather. From hence they went up a wide staircase, that
groaned and creaked as they trod, every step making its particular
note, like the key of a harpsichord. This led to another hall on the
second story, from whence they entered the room where Dolph was to
sleep. It was large, and scantily furnished; the shutters were closed;
but as they were much broken, there was no want of a circulation of
air. It appeared to have been that sacred chamber, known among Dutch
housewives by the name of "the best bed-room;" which is the best
furnished room in the house, but in which scarce any body is ever
permitted to sleep. Its splendour, however, was all at an end. There
were a few broken articles of furniture about the room, and in the
centre stood a heavy deal table and a large arm-chair, both of which
had the look of being coeval with the mansion. The fire-place was
wide, and h