Unfortunately, my nerves were not so well controlled as Eleanor's, J feel a hostile atmosphere instantly, and f fol lowed her through the rooms on the second lloor with the greatest reluc tance. Mr. En lion was right; there was nothing to see. Dust, cobwebs, stained, uneven doors, peeling wall paper, loosened plaster—all the signs of desolation and decay that marl; an aban doned home, dimly lighted by a few sunbeams that struggled through the chinks in the closed blinds.
" There's nothing hcio; the chest must be somewhere on the third lloor." Eleauor said, as wo finished our inspec tion and paused in the hall.
Crash A door slammed somewhere downstairs.
" Let ub go, Ellie," I whispered, trumelously, " It's a draughty old house," was her only remark, as sho clasped my hand and led me lo the upper rooms, or rather room, for we found but one door leading from the hall above.
" Wait till I open the blinds," and Eleanor left me on the threshold as she groped her way towards the nearest window, She stumbled before ranching it, and barely saved herself from falling. " It's the chest," she cried,, gaily, " but I haven't injured it. We'll have some light on tho subject in a second." As tho blinds did not yield an inch to her vigorous onslaughts she was obliged to content herself with opening the slata. 1 now saw that the room was a very largo one, with a sloping ceiling and many dormer windows. It contained a huj-'O lireplaee, n dilapidated lounge, two chairs of disieputable appearance, and the chest that bad impeded Eleanor 1 !" ■progress-a small blue chest, padlocked ami bound with iron bands.
