"I perceive as much; and the panel itself, although of more than
ordinary thickness, is, after all, but a bit of planed oak, and
apparently fashioned for no other object than to paint the portrait on." "True. Shall we replace it?" Charles reluctantly assented, and the picture was replaced in its
original position. We say Charles reluctantly assented, because,
although he had now had ocular demonstration that there was really
nothing behind the panel but the ordinary woodwork which might have been
expected from the construction of the old house, yet he could not, even
with such a fact staring him in the face, get rid entirely of the
feeling that had come across him, to the effect that the picture had
some mystery or another. "You are not yet satisfied," said Henry, as he observed the doubtful
look of Charles Holland's face. "My dear friend," said Charles, "I will not deceive you. I am much
disappointed that we have made no discovery behind that picture." "Heaven knows we have mysteries enough in our family," said Henry. Even as he spoke they were both startled by a strange clattering noise
at the window, which was accompanied by a shrill, odd kind of shriek,
which sounded fearful and preternatural on the night air. "What is that?" said Charles. "God only knows," said Henry. The two young men naturally turned their earnest gaze in the direction
of the window, which we have before remarked was one unprovided with
shutters, and there, to their intense surprise, they saw, slowly rising
up from the lower part of it, what appeared to be a human form. Henry
would have dashed forward, but Charles restrained him, and drawing
quickly from its case a large holster pistol, he levelled it carefully
at the figure, saying in a whisper,--

"Henry, if I don't hit it, I will consent to forfeit my head." He pulled the trigger--a loud report followed--the room was filled with
smoke, and then all was still. A circumstance, however, had occurred, as
a consequence of the concussion of air produced by the discharge of the
pistol, which neither of the young men had for the moment calculated
upon, and that was the putting out of the only light they there had. In spite of this circumstance, Charles, the moment he had discharged the
pistol, dropped it and sprung forward to the window. But here he was
perplexed, for he could not find the old fashioned, intricate fastening
which held it shut, and he had to call to Henry,--

"Henry! For God's sake open the window for me, Henry! The fastening of
the window is known to you, but not to me. Open it for me." Thus called upon, Henry sprung forward, and by this time the report of
the pistol had effectually alarmed the whole household. The flashing of
lights from the corridor came into the room, and in another minute, just
as Henry succeeded in getting the window wide open, and Charles Holland
had made his way on to the balcony, both George Bannerworth and Mr.
Marchdale entered the chamber, eager to know what had occurred. To their
eager questions Henry replied,--

"Ask me not now;" and then calling to Charles, he said,--"Remain where
you are, Charles, while I run down to the garden immediately beneath the
balcony." "Yes--yes," said Charles. Henry made prodigious haste, and was in the garden immediately below the
bay window in a wonderfully short space of time. He spoke to Charles,
saying,--

"Will you now descend? I can see nothing here; but we will both make a
search." George and Mr. Marchdale were both now in the balcony, and they would
have descended likewise, but Henry said,--

"Do not all leave the house. God only knows, now, situated as we are,
what might happen." "I will remain, then," said George. "I have been sitting up to-night as
the guard, and, therefore, may as well continue to do so." Marchdale and Charles Holland clambered over the balcony, and easily,
from its insignificant height, dropped into the garden. The night was
beautiful, and profoundly still. There was not a breath of air
sufficient to stir a leaf on a tree, and the very flame of the candle
which Charles had left burning in the balcony burnt clearly and
steadily, being perfectly unruffled by any wind. It cast a sufficient light close to the window to make everything very
plainly visible, and it was evident at a glance that no object was
there, although had that figure, which Charles shot at, and no doubt
hit, been flesh and blood, it must have dropped immediately below. As they looked up for a moment after a cursory examination of the
ground, Charles exclaimed,--

"Look at the window! As the light is now situated, you can see the hole
made in one of the panes of glass by the passage of the bullet from my
pistol." They did look, and there the clear, round hole, without any starring,
which a bullet discharged close to a pane of glass will make in it, was
clearly and plainly discernible. "You must have hit him," said Henry. "One would think so," said Charles; "for that was the exact place where
the figure was." "And there is nothing here," added Marchdale. "What can we think of
these events--what resource has the mind against the most dreadful
suppositions concerning them?" Charles and Henry were both silent; in truth, they knew not what to
think, and the words uttered by Marchdale were too strikingly true to
dispute for a moment. They were lost in wonder. "Human means against such an appearance as we saw to-night," said
Charles, "are evidently useless." "My dear young friend," said Marchdale, with much emotion, as he grasped
Henry Bannerworth's hand, and the tears stood in his eyes as he did
so,--"my dear young friend, these constant alarms will kill you. They
will drive you, and all whose happiness you hold dear, distracted. You
must control these dreadful feelings, and there is but one chance that I
can see of getting now the better of these." "What is that?" "By leaving this place for ever." "Alas! am I to be driven from the home of my ancestors from such a cause
as this? And whither am I to fly? Where are we to find a refuge? To
leave here will be at once to break up the establishment which is now
held together, certainly upon the sufferance of creditors, but still to
their advantage, inasmuch as I am doing what no one else would do,
namely, paying away to within the scantiest pittance the whole proceeds
of the estate that spreads around me." "Heed nothing but an escape from such horrors as seem to be accumulating
now around you." "If I were sure that such a removal would bring with it such a
corresponding advantage, I might, indeed, be induced to risk all to
accomplish it."