The Judge's House

When the time for his examination drew near Malcolm Malcolmson made up hismind to go somewhere to read by himself. He feared the attractions of theseaside, and also he feared completely rural isolation, for of old he knewits charms, and so he determined to find some unpretentious little townwhere there would be nothing to distract him. He refrained from askingsuggestions from any of his friends, for he argued that each would recommendsome place of which he had knowledge, and where he had alreadyacquaintances. As Malcolmson wished to avoid friends he had no wish toencumber himself with the attention of friends' friends and so he determinedto look out for a place for himself. He packed a portmanteau with someclothes and all the books he required, and then took ticket for the firstname on the local time-table which he did not know.When at the end of three hours' journey he alighted at Benchurch, he feltsatisfied that he had so far obliterated his tracks as to be sure of havinga peaceful opportunity of pursuing his studies. He went straight to the oneinn which the sleepy little place contained, and put up for the night.Benchurch was a market town, and once in three weeks was crowded to excess,but for the reminder of the twenty-one days it was as attractive as adesert. Malcolmson looked around the day after his arrival to try to findquarters more isolated than even so quiet an inn as "The Good Traveller"afforded. There was only one place which took his fancy, and it certainlysatisfied his wildest ideas regarding quiet; in fact, quiet was not theproper word to apply to it -- desolation was the only term conveying anysuitable idea of its isolation. It was an old, rambling, heavy-built houseof the Jacobean style, with heavy gables and windows, unusually small, andset higher than was customary in such houses, and was surrounded with a highbrick wall massively built. Indeed, on examination, it looked more like afortified house than an ordinary dwelling. But all these things pleasedMalcolmson. "Here," he thought, "is the very spot I have been looking for,and if I can only get opportunity of using it I shall be happy." His joy wasincreased when he realized beyond doubt that it was not at presentinhabited.From the post-office he got the name of the agent, who was rarely surprisedat the application to rent a part of the old house. Mr. Carnford, the locallawyer and agent, was a genial old gentleman, and frankly confessed hisdelight at anyone being willing to live in the house."To tell you the truth," said he, "I should be only too happy, on behalf ofthe owners, to let anyone have the house rent free, for a term of years ifonly to accustom the people here to see it inhabited. It has been so longempty that some kind of absurd prejudice has grown up about it, and this canbe best put down by its occupation -- if only," he added with a sly glanceat Malcolmson, "by a scholar like yourself, who wants its quiet for a time."Malcolmson thought it needless to ask the agent about the "absurdprejudice"; he knew he would get more information, if he should require it,on that subject from other quarters. He paid his three months' rent, got areceipt, and the name of an old woman who would probably undertake to "do"for him, and came away with the keys in his pocket. He then went to thelandlady of the inn, who was a cheerful and most kindly person, and askedher advice as to such stores and provisions as he would be likely torequire. She threw up her hands in amazement when he told her where he wasgoing to settle himself."Not in the Judge's House!" she said, and grew pale as she spoke. Heexplained the locality of the house, saying that he did not know its name.When he had finished she answered:"Aye, sure enough -- sure enough the very place! It is the Judge's Housesure enough." He asked her to tell him about the place, why so called, andwhat there was against it. She told him that it was so called locallybecause it had been many years before -- how long she could not say, as shewas herself from another part of the country, but she thought it must havebeen a hundred years or more -- the abode of a judge who was held in greatterror on account of his harsh sentences and his hostility to prisoners atAssizes. As to what there was against the house she could not tell. She hadoften asked, but no one could inform her, but there was a general feelingthat there was something, and for her own part she would not take all themoney in Drinkwater's Bank and stay in the house an hour by herself. Thenshe apologized to Malcolmson for her disturbing talk."It is too bad of me, sir, and you -- and a young gentleman, too -- if youwill pardon me saying it, going to live there all alone. If you were my boy-- and you'll excuse me for saying it -- you wouldn't sleep there a night,not if I had to go there myself and pull the big alarm bell that's on theroof!" The good creature was so manifestly in earnest, and was so kindly inher intentions, that Malcolmson, although amused, was touched. He told herkindly how much he appreciated her interest in him, and added:"But, my dear Mrs. Witham, indeed you need not be concerned about me! A manwho is reading for the Mathematical Tripos has too much to think of to bedisturbed by any of these mysterious 'somethings,' and his work is of tooexact and prosaic a kind to allow of his having any order in his mind formysteries of any kind. Harmonical Progression, Permutations andCombinations, and Elliptic Functions have sufficient mysteries for me!" Mrs.Witham kindly undertook to see after his commissions, and he went himself tolook for the old woman who had been recommended to him. When he turned tothe Judge's House with her, after an interval of a couple of hours, he foundMrs. Witham herself waiting with several men and boys carrying parcels, andan upholsterer's man with a bed in a cart, for she said, though table andchairs might be all very well, a bed that hadn't been aired for maybe fiftyyears was not proper for young ones to lie on. She was evidently curious tosee the inside of the house, and though manifestly so afraid of the'somethings' that at the slightest sound she clutched on to Malcolmson, whomshe never left for a moment, went over the whole place.After his examination of the house, Malcolmson decided to take up his abodein the great dining-room, which was big enough to serve for all hisrequirements, and Mrs. Witham, with the aid of the charwoman, Mrs. Dempster,proceeded to arrange matters. When the hampers were brought in and unpacked,Malcolmson saw that with much kind forethought she had sent from her ownkitchen sufficient provisions to last for a few days. Before going sheexpressed all sorts of kind wishes, and at the door turned and said:"And perhaps, sir, as the room is big and draughty it might be well to haveone of those big screens put round your bed at night -- though truth totell, I would die myself if I were to be so shut in with all kinds of -- of'things,' that put their heads round the sides or over the top, and look onme!" The image which she had called up was too much for her nerves and shefled incontinently.Mrs. Dempster sniffed in a superior manner as the landlady disappeared, andremarked that for her own part she wasn't afraid of all the bogies in thekingdom."I'll tell you what it is, sir," she said, "bogies is all kinds and sorts ofthings -- except bogies! Rats and mice, and beetles and creaky doors, andloose slates, and broken panes, and stiff drawer handles, that stay out whenyou pull them and then fall down in the middle of the night. Look at thewainscot of the room! It is old -- hundreds of years old! Do you thinkthere's no rats and beetles there? And do you imagine, sir, that you won'tsee none of them? Rats is bogies, I tell you, and bogies is rats, and don'tyou get to think anything else!""Mrs. Dempster," said Malcolmson gravely, making her a polite bow, "you knowmore than a Senior Wrangler! And let me say that, as a mark of esteem foryour indubitable soundness of head and heart, I shall, when I go, give youpossession of this house, and let you stay here by yourself for the last twomonths of my tenancy, for four weeks will serve my purpose.""Thank you kindly, sir!" she answered, "but I couldn't sleep away from homea night. I am in Greenhow's Charity, and if I slept a night away from myrooms I should lose all I have got to live on. The rules is very strict, andthere's too many watching for a vacancy for me to run any risks in thematter. Only for that, sir, I'd gladly come here and attend on youaltogether during your stay.""My good woman," said Malcolmson hastily, "I have come here on a purpose toobtain solitude, and believe me that I am grateful to the late Greenhow forhaving organized his admirable charity -- whatever it is -- that I amperforce denied the opportunity of suffering from such a form of temptation!Saint Anthony himself could not be more rigid on the point!"The old woman laughed harshly. "Ah, you young gentlemen," she said, "youdon't fear for nought, and belike you'll get all the solitude you wanthere." She set to work with her cleaning, and by nightfall, when Malcolmsonreturned from his walk -- he always had one of his books to study as hewalked -- he found the room swept and tidied, a fire burning on the oldhearth, the lamp lit, and the table spread for supper with Mrs. Witham'sexcellent fare. "This is comfort indeed," he said, and rubbed his hands.When he had finished his supper, and lifted the tray to the other end of thegreat oak dining-table, he got out his books again, put fresh wood on thefire, trimmed his lamp, and set himself down to a spell of real hard work.He went on without a pause till about eleven o'clock, when he knocked offfor a bit to fix his fire and lamp, and to make himself a cup of tea. He hadalways been a tea-drinker, and during his college life had sat late at workand had taken tea late. The rest was a great luxury to him, and he enjoyedit with a sense of delicious voluptuous ease. The renewed fire leaped andsparkled, and threw quaint shadows through the great old room, and as hesipped his hot tea he revelled in the sense of isolation from his kind. Thenit was that he began to notice for the first time what a noise the rats weremaking."Surely," he thought, "they cannot have been at it all the time I wasreading. Had they been, I must have noticed it!" Presently, when the noiseincreased, he satisfied himself that it was really new. It was evident thatat first the rats had been frightened at the presence of a stranger, and thelight of fire and lamp, but that as the time went on they had grown bolderand were now disporting themselves as was their wont.How busy they were -- and hark to the strange noises! Up and down the oldwainscot, over the ceiling and under the floor they raced, and gnawed, andscratched! Malcolmson smiled to himself as he recalled to mind the saying ofMrs. Dempster, "Bogies is rats, and rats is bogies!" The tea began to haveits effect of intellectual and nervous stimulus, he saw with joy anotherlong spell of work to be done before the night was past, and in the sense ofsecurity which it gave him, he allowed himself the luxury of a good lookround the room. He took his lamp in one hand, and went all round, wonderingthat so quaint and beautiful an old house had been so long neglected. Thecarving of the oak on the panels of the wainscot was fine, and on and roundthe doors and windows it was beautiful and of rare merit. There were someold pictures on the walls, but they were coated so thick with dust and dirtthat he could not distinguish any detail of them, though he held his lamp ashigh as he could over his head. Here and there as he went round he saw somecrack or hole blocked for a moment by the face of a rat with its bright eyesglittering in the light, but in an instant it was gone, and a squeak and ascamper followed. The thing that most struck him, however, was the rope ofthe great alarm bell on the roof, which hung down in a corner of the room onthe right-hand side of the fireplace. He pulled up close to the hearth agreat high-backed carved oak chair, and sat down to his last cup of tea.When this was done he made up the fire, and went back to his work, sittingat the corner of the table, having the fire to his left. For a little whilethe rats disturbed him somewhat with their perpetual scampering, but he gotaccustomed to the noise as one does to the ticking of the clock or to theroar of moving water, and he became so immersed in his work that everythingin the world, except the problem which he was trying to solve, passed awayfrom him.He suddenly looked up, his problem was still unsolved, and there was in theair that sense of the hour before the dawn, which is so dread to doubtfullife. The noise of the rats had ceased. Indeed it seemed to him that it musthave ceased but lately and that it was the sudden cessation which haddisturbed him. The fire had fallen low, but still it threw out a deep redglow. As he looked he started in spite of his sang froid.There, on the great high-backed carved oak chair by the right side of thefire-place sat an enormous rat, steadily glaring at him with baleful eyes.He made a motion to it as though to hunt it away, but it did not stir. Thenhe made the motion of throwing something. Still it did not stir, but showedits great white teeth angrily, and its cruel eyes shone in the lamplightwith an added vindictiveness.Malcolmson felt amazed, and seizing the poker from the hearth ran at it tokill it. Before, however, he could strike it the rat, with a squeak thatsounded like the concentration of hate, jumped upon the floor, and, runningup the rope of the alarm bell, disappeared in the darkness beyond the rangeof the green-shaded lamp. Instantly, strange to say, the noisy scampering ofthe rats in the wainscot began again.By this time Malcolmson's mind was quite off the problem, and as a shrillcock-crow outside told him of the approach of morning, he went to bed and tosleep.He slept so sound that he was not even waked by Mrs. Dempster coming in tomake up his room. It was only when she had tided up the place and got hisbreakfast ready and tapped on the screen which closed in his bed that hewoke. He was a little tired still after his night's hard work, but a strongcup of tea soon freshened him up and, taking his book, he went out for hismorning walk, bringing with him a few sandwiches lest he should not care toreturn till dinner-time. He found a quiet walk between high elms some wayoutside the town, and here he spent the greater part of the day studying hisLaplace. On his return he looked in to see Mrs. Witham and to thank her forher kindness. When she saw him coming through the diamond-paned bay windowof her sanctum she came out to meet him and asked him in. She looked at himsearchingly and shook her head as she said:"You must not overdo it, sir. You are paler this morning than you should be.Too late hours and too hard work on the brains isn't good for any man! Buttell me, sir, how did you pass the night? Well, I hope? But, my heart! sir,I was glad when Mrs. Dempster told me this morning that you were all rightand sleeping sound when she went in.""Oh, I was all right," he answered smiling, "The 'somethings' didn't worryme, as yet. Only the rats, and they had a circus, I tell you, all over theplace. There was one wicked-looking old devil that sat up on my own chair bythe fire, and wouldn't go till I took the poker to him, and then he ran upthe rope of the alarm bell and got to somewhere up the wall or the ceiling-- I couldn't see where, it was so dark.""Mercy on us," said Mrs. Witham, "an old devil, and sitting on a chair bythe fireside! Take care, sir! take care! There's many a true word spoken injest.""How do you mean? 'Pon my word, I don't understand.""An old devil! The old devil, perhaps. There! sir, you needn't laugh," forMalcolmson had broken into a hearty peal. "You young folks think it easy tolaugh at things that makes older ones shudder. Never mind, sir! never mind!Please God, you'll laugh all the time. It's what I wish you myself!" and thegood lady beamed all over in sympathy with his enjoyment, her fears gone fora moment."Oh, forgive me," said Malcolmson presently. "Don't think me rude, but theidea was too much for me -- that the old devil himself was on the chair lastnight!" And at the thought he laughed again. Then he went home to dinner.This evening the scampering of the rats began earlier, indeed it had beengoing on before his arrival, and only ceased whilst his presence by itsfreshness disturbed them. After dinner he sat by the fire for a while andhad a smoke, and then, having cleared his table, began to work as before.To-night the rats disturbed him more than they had done on the previousnight.How they scampered up and down and under and over! How they squeaked andscratched and gnawed! How they, getting bolder by degrees, came to themouths of their holes and to the chinks and cracks and crannies in thewainscoting till their eyes shone like tiny lamps as the firelight rose andfell. But to him, now doubtless accustomed to them, their eyes were notwicked, only their playfulness touched him. Sometimes the boldest of themmade sallies out on the floor or along the mouldings of the wainscot. Nowand again as they disturbed him Malcolmson made a sound to frighten them,smiting the table with his hand or giving a fierce "Hsh, hsh," so that theyfled straightway to their holes.And so the early part of the night wore on, and despite the noise Malcolmsongot more and more immersed in his work.All at once he stopped, as on the previous night, being overcome by a suddensilence. There was not the faintest sound of gnaw, or scratch, or squeak.The silence was as of the grave.He remembered the odd occurrence of the previous night, and instinctively helooked at the chair standing close by the fireside. And then a very oddsensation thrilled through him.There, on the great old high-backed carved oak chair beside the fireplacesat the same enormous rat, steadily glaring at him with baleful eyes.Instinctively he took the nearest thing to his hand, a book of logarithms,and flung it at it. The book was badly aimed and the rat did not stir, soagain the poker performance of the previous night was repeated, and againthe rat, being closely pursued, fled up the rope of the alarm bell.Strangely, too, the departure of this rat was instantly followed by therenewal of the noise made by the general rat community. On this occasion, ason the previous one, Malcolmson could not see at what part of the room therat disappeared, for the green shade of his lamp left the upper part of theroom in darkness and the fire had burned low.On looking at his watch he found it was close on midnight, and, not sorryfor the divertissement, he made up his fire and made himself his nightly potof tea. He had got through a good spell of work, and thought himselfentitled to a cigarette, and so he sat on the great carved oak chair beforethe fire and enjoyed it. Whilst smoking he began to think that he would liketo know where the rat disappeared to, for he had certain ideas for themorrow not entirely disconnected with a rat-trap. Accordingly he lit anotherlamp and placed it so that it would shine well into the right-hand corner ofthe wall by the fireplace. Then he got all the books he had with him, andplaced them handy to throw at the vermin. Finally he lifted the rope of thealarm bell and placed the end of it on the table, fixing the extreme endunder the lamp. As he handled it he could not help noticing how pliable itwas, especially for so strong a rope and one not in use. "You could hang aman with it," he thought to himself. When his preparations were made helooked around, and said complacently:"There now, my friend, I think we shall learn something of you this time!"He began his work again, and though, as before, somewhat disturbed at firstby the noise of the rats, soon lost himself in his proposition and problems.Again he was called to his immediate surroundings suddenly. This time itmight not have been the sudden silence only which took his attention; therewas a slight movement of the rope, and the lamp moved. Without stirring, helooked to see if his pile of books was within range, and then cast his eyealong the rope. As he looked he saw the great rat drop from the rope on theoak arm-chair and sit there glaring at him. He raised a book in his righthand, and taking careful aim, flung it at the rat. The latter, with a quickmovement, sprang aside and dodged the missile. Then he took another book,and a third, and flung them one after the other at the rat, but each timeunsuccessfully. At last, as he stood with a book poised in his hand tothrow, the rat squeaked and seemed afraid. This made Malcolmson more thanever eager to strike, and the book flew and struck the rat a resoundingblow. It gave a terrified squeak, and turning on his pursuer a look ofterrible malevolence, ran up the chair- back and made a great jump to therope of the alarm bell and ran up it like lightning. The lamp rocked underthe sudden strain, but it was a heavy one and did not topple over.Malcolmson kept his eyes on the rat, and saw it by the light of the secondlamp leap to a moulding of the wainscot and disappear through a hole in oneof the great pictures which hung on the wall, obscured and invisible throughits coating of dirt and dust."I shall look up my friend's habitation in the morning," said the student,as he went over to collect his books. "The third picture from the fireplace,I shall not forget." He picked up the books one by one, commenting on themas he lifted them. Conic Sections he does not mind, nor CycloidOscillations, nor the Principia, nor Quaternions, nor Thermodynamics. Nowfor a look at the book that fetched him!" Malcolmson took it up and lookedat it. As he did so he started, and a sudden pallor overspread his face. Helooked round uneasily and shivered slightly, as he murmured to himself:"The Bible my mother gave me! What an odd coincidence." He sat down to workagain, and the rats in the wainscot renewed their gambols. They did notdisturb him, however; somehow their presence gave him a sense ofcompanionship. But he could not attend to his work, and after striving tomaster the subject on which he was engaged gave it up in despair, and wentto bed as the first streak of dawn stole in through the eastern window.He slept heavily but uneasily, and dreamed much, and when Mrs. Dempster wokehim late in the morning he seemed ill at ease, and for a few minutes did notseem to realize exactly where he was. His first request rather surprised theservant."Mrs. Dempster, when I am out to-day I wish you would get the steps and dustor wash those pictures -- specially that one the third from the fireplace --I want to see what they are."Late in the afternoon Malcolmson worked at his books in the shaded walk, andthe cheerfulness of the previous day came back to him as the day wore on,and he found that his reading was progressing well. He had worked out to asatisfactory conclusion all the problems which had as yet baffled him, andit was in a state of jubilation that he paid a visit to Mrs. Witham at "TheGood Traveller." He found a stranger in the cosy sitting-room with thelandlady, who was introduced to him as Dr. Thornhill. She was not quite atease, and this, combined with the doctor's plunging at once into a series ofquestions, made Malcolmson come to the conclusion that his presence was notan accident, so without preliminary he said:"Dr. Thornhill, I shall with pleasure answer you any question you may chooseto ask me if you will answer me one question first."The doctor seemed surprised, but he smiled and answered at once, "Done! Whatis it?""Did Mrs. Witham ask you to come here and see me and advise me?"Dr. Thornhill for a moment was taken aback, and Mrs. Witham got fiery redand turned away, but the doctor was a frank and ready man, and he answeredat once and openly:"She did, but she didn't intend you to know it. I suppose it was my clumsyhaste that made you suspect. She told me that she did not like the idea ofyour being in that house all by yourself, and that she thought you took toomuch strong tea. In fact, she wants me to advise you, if possible, to giveup the tea and the very late hours. I was a keen student in my time, so Isuppose I may take the liberty of a college man, and without offence, adviseyou not quite as a stranger."Malcolmson with a bright smile held out his hand. "Shake -- as they say inAmerica," he said. "I must thank you for your kindness, and Mrs. Witham too,and your kindness deserves a return on my part. I promise to take no morestrong tea -- no tea at all till you let me -- and I shall go to bedto-night at one o'clock at latest. Will that do?""Capital," said the doctor. "Now tell us all that you noticed in the oldhouse," and so Malcolmson then and there told in minute detail all that hadhappened in the last two nights. He was interrupted every now and then bysome exclamation from Mrs. Witham, till finally when he told of the episodeof the Bible the landlady's pent-up emotions found vent in a shriek, and itwas not till a stiff glass of brandy and water had been administered thatshe grew composed again. Dr. Thornhill listened with a face of growinggravity, and when the narrative was complete and Mrs. Witham had beenrestored he asked:"The rat always went up the rope of the alarm bell?""Always.""I suppose you know," said the Doctor after a pause, "what that rope is?""No?""It is," said the Doctor slowly, "the very rope which the hangman used forall the victims of the Judge's judicial rancour!" Here he was interrupted byanother scream from Mrs. Witham, and steps had to be taken for her recovery.Malcolmson having looked at his watch, and found that it was close to hisdinner-hour, had gone home before her complete recovery.When Mrs. Witham was herself again she almost assailed the Doctor with angryquestions as to what he meant by putting such horrible ideas into the pooryoung man's mind. "He has quite enough there already to upset him," sheadded.Dr. Thornhill replied:"My dear madam, I had a distinct purpose in it! I wanted to draw hisattention to the bell-rope, and to fix it there. It may be that he is in ahighly over-wrought state, and has been studying too much, although I ambound to say that he seems as sound and healthy a young man, mentally andbodily, as ever I saw -- but then the rats -- and that suggestion of thedevil." The doctor shook his head and went on. "I would have offered to goand stay the first night with him but that I felt sure it would have been acause of offence. He may get in the night some strange fright orhallucination, and if he does I want him to pull that rope. All alone as heis it will give us warning, and we may reach him in time to be of service. Ishall be sitting up pretty late to-night and shall keep my ears open. Do notbe alarmed if Benchurch gets a surprise before morning.""Oh, Doctor, what do you mean? What do you mean?""I mean this, that possibly -- nay, more probably -- we shall hear the greatalarm-bell from the Judge's House to-night," and the Doctor made about aneffective an exit as could be thought of.When Malcolmson arrived home he found that it was a little after his usualtime, and Mrs. Dempster had gone away -- the rules of Greenhow's Charitywere not to be neglected. He was glad to see that the place was bright andtidy with a cheerful fire and a well-trimmed lamp. The evening was colderthan might have been expected in April, and a heavy wind was blowing withsuch rapidly-increasing strength that there was every promise of a stormduring the night. For a few minutes after his entrance the noise of the ratsceased, but so soon as they became accustomed to his presence they beganagain. He was glad to hear them, for he felt once more the feeling ofcompanionship in their noise, and his mind ran back to the strange fact thatthey only ceased to manifest themselves when the other -- the great rat withthe baleful eyes -- came upon the scene. The reading- lamp only was lit andits green shade kept the ceiling and the upper part of the room in darknessso that the cheerful light from the hearth spreading over the floor andshining on the white cloth laid over the end of the table was warm andcheery. Malcolmson sat down to his dinner with a good appetite and a buoyantspirit. After his dinner and a cigarette he sat steadily down to work,determined not to let anything disturb him, for he remembered his promise tothe doctor, and made up his mind to make the best of the time at hisdisposal.For an hour or so he worked all right, and then his thoughts began to wanderfrom his books. The actual circumstances around him, and the calls on hisphysical attention, and his nervous susceptibility were not to be denied. Bythis time the wind had become a gale, and the gale a storm. The old house,solid though it was, seemed to shake to its foundation, and the storm roaredand raged through its many chimneys and its queer old gables, producingstrange, unearthly sounds in the empty rooms and corridors. Even the greatalarm-bell on the roof must have felt the force of the wind, for the roperose and fell slightly, as though the bell were moved a little from time totime, and the limber rope fell on the oak floor with a hard and hollowsound.As Malcolmson listened to it he bethought himself of the doctor's words, "Itis the rope which the hangman used for the victims of the Judge's judicialrancour," and he went over to the corner of the fireplace and took it in hishand to look at it. There seemed a sort of deadly interest in it, and as hestood there he lost himself for a moment in speculation as to who thesevictims were, and the grim wish of the Judge to have such a ghastly relicever under his eyes. As he stood there the swaying of the bell on the roofstill lifted the rope now and again, but presently there came a newsensation -- a sort of tremor in the rope, as though something was movingalong it.Looking up instinctively Malcolmson saw the great rat coming slowly downtowards him, glaring at him steadily. He dropped the rope and started backwith a muttered curse, and the rat turning ran up the slope again anddisappeared, and at the same instant Malcolmson became conscious that thenoise of the other rats, which had ceased for a while, began again.All this set him thinking, and it occurred to him that he had notinvestigated the lair of the rat or looked at the pictures, as he hadintended. He lit the other lamp without the shade, and, holding it up wentand stood opposite the third picture from the fireplace on the right-handside where he had seen the rat disappear on the previous night.At the first glance he started back so suddenly that he almost dropped thelamp, and a deadly pallor overspread his face.His knees shook, and heavy drops of sweat came on his forehead, and hetrembled like an aspen. But he was young and plucky, and pulled himselftogether, and after the pause of a few seconds stepped forward again, raisedthe lamp, and examined the picture which had been dusted and washed, and nowstood out clearly.It was of a judge dressed in his robes of scarlet and ermine. His face wasstrong and merciless, evil, crafty and vindictive, with a sensual mouth,hooked nose of ruddy colour, and shaped like the beak of a bird of prey. Therest of the face was of a cadaverous colour. The eyes were of peculiarbrilliance and with a terribly malignant expression. As he looked at them,Malcolmson grew cold, for he saw there the very counterpart of the eyes ofthe great rat. The lamp almost fell from his hand, he saw the rat with itsbaleful eyes peering out through the hole in the corner of the picture, andnoted the sudden cessation of the noise of the other rats. However, hepulled himself together, and went on with his examination of the picture.The Judge was seated in a great high-backed carved oak chair, on theright-hand side of a great stone fireplace where, in the corner, a rope hungdown from the ceiling, its end lying coiled on the floor. With a feeling ofsomething like horror, Malcolmson recognized the scene of the room as itstood, and gazed around him in an awestruck manner as though he expected tofind some strange presence behind him. Then he looked over to the corner ofthe fireplace -- and with a loud cry he let the lamp fall from his hand.There, in the judge's arm-chair, with the rope hanging behind, sat the ratwith the Judge's baleful eyes, now intensified as with a fiendish leer. Savefor the howling of the storm without there was silence.The fallen lamp recalled Malcolmson to himself. Fortunately it was of metal,and so the oil was not spilt. However, the practical need of attending to itsettled at once his nervous apprehensions. When he had turned it out, hewiped his brow and thought for a moment."This will not do," he said to himself. "If I go on like this I shall becomea crazy fool. This must stop! I promised the doctor I would not take tea.Faith, he was pretty right! My nerves must have been getting into a queerstate. Funny I did not notice it. I never felt better in my life. However,it is all right now, and I shall not be such a fool again."Then he mixed himself a good stiff glass of brandy and water and resolutelysat down to his work.It was nearly an hour when he looked up from his book, disturbed by thesudden stillness. Without, the wind howled and roared louder then ever, andthe rain drove in sheets against the windows, beating like hail on theglass, but within there was no sound whatever save the echo of the wind asit roared in the great chimney, and now and then a hiss as a few raindropsfound their way down the chimney in a lull of the storm. The fire had fallenlow and had ceased to flame, though it threw out a red glow. Malcolmsonlistened attentively, and presently heard a thin, squeaking noise, veryfaint. It came from the corner of the room where the rope hung down, and hethought it was the creaking of the rope on the floor as the swaying of thebell raised and lowered it. Looking up, however, he saw in the dim light thegreat rat clinging to the rope and gnawing it. The rope was already nearlygnawed through -- he could see the lighter colour where the strands werelaid bare. As he looked the job was completed, and the severed end of therope fell clattering on the oaken floor, whilst for an instant the great ratremained like a knob or tassel at the end of the rope, which now began tosway to and fro. Malcolmson felt for a moment another pang of terror as hethought that now the possibility of calling the outer world to hisassistance was cut off, but an intense anger took its place, and seizing thebook he was reading he hurled it at the rat. The blow was well-aimed, butbefore the missile could reach him the rat dropped off and struck the floorwith a soft thud. Malcolmson instantly rushed over towards him, but itdarted away and disappeared in the darkness of the shadows of the room.Malcolmson felt that his work was over for the night, and determined thenand there to vary the monotony of the proceedings by a hunt for the rat, andtook off the green shade of the lamp so as to insure a wider spreadinglight. As he did so the gloom of the upper part of the room was relieved,and in the new flood of light, great by comparison with the previousdarkness, the pictures on the wall stood out boldly.From where he stood, Malcolmson saw right opposite to him the third pictureon the wall from the right of the fireplace. He rubbed his eyes in surprise,and then a great fear began to come upon him.In the centre of the picture was a great irregular patch of brown canvas, asfresh as when it was stretched on the frame. The background was as before,with chair and chimney-corner and rope, but the figure of the Judge haddisappeared.Malcolmson, almost in a chill of horror, turned slowly round, and then hebegan to shake and tremble like a man in a palsy. His strength seemed tohave left him, and he was incapable of action or movement, hardly even ofthought. He could only see and hear.There, on the great high-backed carved oak chair sat the judge in his robesof scarlet and ermine, with his baleful eyes glaring vindictively, and asmile of triumph on the resolute cruel mouth, as he lifted with his hands ablack cap. Malcolmson felt as if the blood was running from his heart, asone does in moments of prolonged suspense. There was a singing in his ears.Without, he could hear the roar and howl of the tempest, and through it,swept on the storm, came the striking of midnight by the great chimes in themarket-place. He stood for a space of time that seemed to him endless stillas a statue, and with wide-open, horror-struck eyes, breathless. As theclock struck, so the smile of triumph on the Judge's face intensified, andat the last stroke of midnight he placed the black cap on his head.Slowly and deliberately the Judge rose from his chair and picked up thepiece of rope of the alarm bell which lay on the floor, drew it through hishands as if he enjoyed its touch and then deliberately began to knot one endof it, fashioning it into a noose. This he tightened and tested with hisfoot, pulling hard at it till he was satisfied and then making a runningnoose of it, which he held in his hand. Then he began to move along thetable on the opposite side of Malcolmson keeping his eyes on him until hehad passed him, when with a quick movement he stood in front of the door.Malcolmson then began to feel that he was trapped, and tried to think ofwhat he should do. There was some fascination in the Judge's eyes, which henever took off him, and he had, perforce, to look. He saw the Judge approach-- still keeping between him and the door -- and raise the noose and throwit towards him as if to entangle him. With a great effort he made a quickmovement to one side, and saw the rope fall beside him, and heard it strikethe oaken floor. Again the Judge raised the noose and tried to ensnare him,ever keeping his baleful eyes fixed on him, and each time by a mighty effortthe student just managed to evade it. So this went on for many times, theJudge seeming never discouraged nor discomposed at failure, but playing as acat does with a mouse. At last in despair, which had reached its climax,Malcolmson cast a quick glance round him. The lamp seemed to have blazed up,and there was a fairly good light in the room. At the many rat-holes and inthe chinks and crannies of the wainscot he saw the rats' eyes, and thisaspect, that was purely physical, gave him a gleam of comfort. He lookedround and saw that the rope of the great alarm bell was laden with rats.Every inch of it was covered with them, and more and more were pouringthrough the small circular hole in the ceiling whence it emerged, so thatwith their weight the bell was beginning to sway.Hark! it had swayed till the clapper had touched the bell. The sound was buta tiny one, but the bell was only beginning to sway, and it would increase.At the sound the Judge, who had been keeping his eyes fixed on Malcolmson,looked up, and a scowl of diabolical anger overspread his face. His eyesfairly glowed like hot coals, and he stamped his foot with a sound thatseemed to make the house shake. A dreadful peal of thunder broke overhead ashe raised the rope again, whilst the rats kept running up and down the ropeas though working against time. This time, instead of throwing it, he drewclose to his victim, and held open the noose as he approached. As he camecloser there seemed something paralyzing in his very presence, andMalcolmson stood rigid as a corpse. He felt the Judge's icy fingers touchhis throat as he adjusted the rope. The noose tightened -- tightened. Thenthe Judge, taking the rigid form of the student in his arms, carried himover and placed him standing in the oak chair, and stepping up beside him,put his hand up and caught the end of the swaying rope of the alarm-bell. Ashe raised his hand the rats fled squeaking and disappeared through the holein the ceiling. Taking the end of the noose which was round Malcolmson'sneck he tied it to the hanging bell-rope, and then descending pulled awaythe chair. * * * * *When the alarm-bell of the Judge's House began to sound a crowd soonassembled. Lights and torches of various kinds appeared, and soon a silentcrowd was hurrying to the spot. They knocked loudly at the door, but therewas no reply. Then they burst in the door, and poured into the greatdining-room, the doctor at the head.There at the end of the rope of the great alarm-bell hung the body of thestudent, and on the face of the Judge in the picture was a malignant smile.