little different from a prison-room.

Foster stopped at the door, and gave the lamp to the Countess, without
either offering or permitting the attendance of the old woman who had
carried it. The lady stood not on ceremony, but taking it hastily,
barred the door, and secured it with the ample means provided on the
inside for that purpose.

Varney, meanwhile, had lurked behind on the stairs; but hearing the door
barred, he now came up on tiptoe, and Foster, winking to him, pointed
with self-complacence to a piece of concealed machinery in the wall,
which, playing with much ease and little noise, dropped a part of the
wooden gallery, after the manner of a drawbridge, so as to cut off
all communication between the door of the bedroom, which he usually
inhabited, and the landing-place of the high, winding stair which
ascended to it. The rope by which this machinery was wrought was
generally carried within the bedchamber, it being Foster's object to
provide against invasion from without; but now that it was intended
to secure the prisoner within, the cord had been brought over to
the landing-place, and was there made fast, when Foster with much
complacency had dropped the unsuspected trap-door.

Varney looked with great attention at the machinery, and peeped more
than once down the abyss which was opened by the fall of the trap-door.
It was dark as pitch, and seemed profoundly deep, going, as Foster
informed his confederate in a whisper, nigh to the lowest vault of the
Castle. Varney cast once more a fixed and long look down into this
sable gulf, and then followed Foster to the part of the manor-house most
usually inhabited.

When they arrived in the parlour which we have mentioned, Varney
requested Foster to get them supper, and some of the choicest wine. "I
will seek Alasco," he added; "we have work for him to do, and we must
put him in good heart."

Foster groaned at this intimation, but made no remonstrance. The old
woman assured Varney that Alasco had scarce eaten or drunken since her
master's departure, living perpetually shut up in the laboratory, and
talking as if the world's continuance depended on what he was doing
there.

"I will teach him that the world hath other claims on him," said Varney,
seizing a light, and going in quest of the alchemist. He returned, after
a considerable absence, very pale, but yet with his habitual sneer on
his cheek and nostril. "Our friend," he said, "has exhaled."

"How!--what