The Judge's House

When the time forhis examination drew near Malcolm Malcolmson made up hismind togo somewhere to read by himself. He feared the attractions oftheseaside, and also he feared completely rural isolation, for ofold he knewits charms, and so he determined to find someunpretentious little townwhere there would be nothing to distracthim. He refrained from askingsuggestions from any of his friends,for he argued that each would recommendsome place of which he hadknowledge, and where he had alreadyacquaintances. As Malcolmsonwished to avoid friends he had no wish toencumber himself withthe attention of friends' friends and so he determinedto look outfor a place for himself. He packed a portmanteau with someclothesand all the books he required, and then took ticket for thefirstname on the local time-table which he did not know.When atthe end of three hours' journey he alighted at Benchurch, hefeltsatisfied that he had so far obliterated his tracks as to besure of havinga peaceful opportunity of pursuing his studies. Hewent straight to the oneinn which the sleepy little placecontained, and put up for the night.Benchurch was a market town,and once in three weeks was crowded to excess,but for thereminder of the twenty-one days it was as attractive as adesert.Malcolmson looked around the day after his arrival to try tofindquarters more isolated than even so quiet an inn as "TheGood Traveller"afforded. There was only one place which tookhis fancy, and it certainlysatisfied his wildest ideas regardingquiet; in fact, quiet was not theproper word to apply to it --desolation was the only term conveying anysuitable idea of itsisolation. It was an old, rambling, heavy-built houseof theJacobean style, with heavy gables and windows, unusually small,andset higher than was customary in such houses, and wassurrounded with a highbrick wall massively built. Indeed, onexamination, it looked more like afortified house than anordinary dwelling. But all these things pleasedMalcolmson. "Here,"he thought, "is the very spot I have been looking for,and ifI can only get opportunity of using it I shall be happy."His joy wasincreased when he realized beyond doubt that it wasnot at presentinhabited.From the post-office he got the name ofthe agent, who was rarely surprisedat the application to rent apart of the old house. Mr. Carnford, the locallawyer and agent,was a genial old gentleman, and frankly confessed hisdelight atanyone being willing to live in the house."To tell you thetruth," said he, "I should be only too happy, on behalfofthe owners, to let anyone have the house rent free, for a termof years ifonly to accustom the people here to see it inhabited.It has been so longempty that some kind of absurd prejudice hasgrown up about it, and this canbe best put down by its occupation-- if only," he added with a sly glanceat Malcolmson, "bya scholar like yourself, who wants its quiet for a time."Malcolmsonthought it needless to ask the agent about the "absurdprejudice";he knew he would get more information, if he should require it,onthat subject from other quarters. He paid his three months' rent,got areceipt, and the name of an old woman who would probablyundertake to "do"for him, and came away with the keysin his pocket. He then went to thelandlady of the inn, who was acheerful and most kindly person, and askedher advice as to suchstores and provisions as he would be likely torequire. She threwup her hands in amazement when he told her where he wasgoing tosettle himself."Not in the Judge's House!" she said,and grew pale as she spoke. Heexplained the locality of thehouse, saying that he did not know its name.When he had finishedshe answered:"Aye, sure enough -- sure enough the very place!It is the Judge's Housesure enough." He asked her to tellhim about the place, why so called, andwhat there was against it.She told him that it was so called locallybecause it had beenmany years before -- how long she could not say, as shewasherself from another part of the country, but she thought it musthavebeen a hundred years or more -- the abode of a judge who washeld in greatterror on account of his harsh sentences and hishostility to prisoners atAssizes. As to what there was againstthe house she could not tell. She hadoften asked, but no onecould inform her, but there was a general feelingthat there wassomething, and for her own part she would not take all themoneyin Drinkwater's Bank and stay in the house an hour by herself.Thenshe apologized to Malcolmson for her disturbing talk."Itis too bad of me, sir, and you -- and a young gentleman, too --if youwill pardon me saying it, going to live there all alone. Ifyou were my boy-- and you'll excuse me for saying it -- youwouldn't sleep there a night,not if I had to go there myself andpull the big alarm bell that's on theroof!" The goodcreature was so manifestly in earnest, and was so kindly inherintentions, that Malcolmson, although amused, was touched. Hetold herkindly how much he appreciated her interest in him, andadded:"But, my dear Mrs. Witham, indeed you need not beconcerned about me! A manwho is reading for the MathematicalTripos has too much to think of to bedisturbed by any of thesemysterious 'somethings,' and his work is of tooexact and prosaica kind to allow of his having any order in his mind formysteriesof any kind. Harmonical Progression, PermutationsandCombinations, and Elliptic Functions have sufficient mysteriesfor me!" Mrs.Witham kindly undertook to see after hiscommissions, and he went himself tolook for the old woman who hadbeen recommended to him. When he turned tothe Judge's House withher, after an interval of a couple of hours, he foundMrs. Withamherself waiting with several men and boys carrying parcels, andanupholsterer's man with a bed in a cart, for she said, thoughtable andchairs might be all very well, a bed that hadn't beenaired for maybe fiftyyears was not proper for young ones to lieon. She was evidently curious tosee the inside of the house, andthough manifestly so afraid of the'somethings' that at theslightest sound she clutched on to Malcolmson, whomshe never leftfor a moment, went over the whole place.After his examination ofthe house, Malcolmson decided to take up his abodein the greatdining-room, which was big enough to serve for allhisrequirements, and Mrs. Witham, with the aid of the charwoman,Mrs. Dempster,proceeded to arrange matters. When the hampers werebrought in and unpacked,Malcolmson saw that with much kindforethought she had sent from her ownkitchen sufficientprovisions to last for a few days. Before going sheexpressed allsorts of kind wishes, and at the door turned and said:"Andperhaps, sir, as the room is big and draughty it might be well tohaveone of those big screens put round your bed at night --though truth totell, I would die myself if I were to be so shutin with all kinds of -- of'things,' that put their heads roundthe sides or over the top, and look onme!" The image whichshe had called up was too much for her nerves and shefledincontinently.Mrs. Dempster sniffed in a superior manner as thelandlady disappeared, andremarked that for her own part shewasn't afraid of all the bogies in thekingdom."I'll tell youwhat it is, sir," she said, "bogies is all kinds andsorts ofthings -- except bogies! Rats and mice, and beetles andcreaky doors, andloose slates, and broken panes, and stiff drawerhandles, that stay out whenyou pull them and then fall down inthe middle of the night. Look at thewainscot of the room! It isold -- hundreds of years old! Do you thinkthere's no rats andbeetles there? And do you imagine, sir, that you won'tsee none ofthem? Rats is bogies, I tell you, and bogies is rats, anddon'tyou get to think anything else!""Mrs. Dempster,"said Malcolmson gravely, making her a polite bow, "youknowmore than a Senior Wrangler! And let me say that, as a markof esteem foryour indubitable soundness of head and heart, Ishall, when I go, give youpossession of this house, and let youstay here by yourself for the last twomonths of my tenancy, forfour weeks will serve my purpose.""Thank you kindly,sir!" she answered, "but I couldn't sleep away fromhomea night. I am in Greenhow's Charity, and if I slept a nightaway from myrooms I should lose all I have got to live on. Therules is very strict, andthere's too many watching for a vacancyfor me to run any risks in thematter. Only for that, sir, I'dgladly come here and attend on youaltogether during your stay.""Mygood woman," said Malcolmson hastily, "I have come hereon a purpose toobtain solitude, and believe me that I am gratefulto the late Greenhow forhaving organized his admirable charity --whatever it is -- that I amperforce denied the opportunity ofsuffering from such a form of temptation!Saint Anthony himselfcould not be more rigid on the point!"The old woman laughedharshly. "Ah, you young gentlemen," she said, "youdon'tfear for nought, and belike you'll get all the solitude youwanthere." She set to work with her cleaning, and bynightfall, when Malcolmsonreturned from his walk -- he always hadone of his books to study as hewalked -- he found the room sweptand tidied, a fire burning on the oldhearth, the lamp lit, andthe table spread for supper with Mrs. Witham'sexcellent fare."This is comfort indeed," he said, and rubbed his hands.Whenhe had finished his supper, and lifted the tray to the other endof thegreat oak dining-table, he got out his books again, putfresh wood on thefire, trimmed his lamp, and set himself down toa spell of real hard work.He went on without a pause till abouteleven o'clock, when he knocked offfor a bit to fix his fire andlamp, 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 tealate. The rest was a great luxury to him, and he enjoyedit with asense of delicious voluptuous ease. The renewed fire leapedandsparkled, and threw quaint shadows through the great old room,and as hesipped his hot tea he revelled in the sense of isolationfrom his kind. Thenit was that he began to notice for the firsttime what a noise the rats weremaking."Surely," hethought, "they cannot have been at it all the time Iwasreading. Had they been, I must have noticed it!"Presently, when the noiseincreased, he satisfied himself that itwas really new. It was evident thatat first the rats had beenfrightened at the presence of a stranger, and thelight of fireand lamp, but that as the time went on they had grown bolderandwere now disporting themselves as was their wont.How busy theywere -- and hark to the strange noises! Up and down theoldwainscot, over the ceiling and under the floor they raced, andgnawed, andscratched! Malcolmson smiled to himself as he recalledto mind the saying ofMrs. Dempster, "Bogies is rats, andrats is bogies!" The tea began to haveits effect ofintellectual and nervous stimulus, he saw with joy anotherlongspell of work to be done before the night was past, and in thesense ofsecurity which it gave him, he allowed himself the luxuryof a good lookround the room. He took his lamp in one hand, andwent all round, wonderingthat so quaint and beautiful an oldhouse had been so long neglected. Thecarving of the oak on thepanels of the wainscot was fine, and on and roundthe doors andwindows it was beautiful and of rare merit. There were someoldpictures on the walls, but they were coated so thick with dustand dirtthat he could not distinguish any detail of them, thoughhe held his lamp ashigh as he could over his head. Here and thereas he went round he saw somecrack or hole blocked for a moment bythe 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 greatalarm bell on the roof, which hung down in a corner of the roomonthe right-hand side of the fireplace. He pulled up close to thehearth agreat high-backed carved oak chair, and sat down to hislast cup of tea.When this was done he made up the fire, and wentback to his work, sittingat the corner of the table, having thefire to his left. For a little whilethe rats disturbed himsomewhat with their perpetual scampering, but he gotaccustomed tothe noise as one does to the ticking of the clock or to theroarof moving water, and he became so immersed in his work thateverythingin the world, except the problem which he was trying tosolve, passed awayfrom him.He suddenly looked up, his problem wasstill unsolved, and there was in theair that sense of the hourbefore the dawn, which is so dread to doubtfullife. The noise ofthe rats had ceased. Indeed it seemed to him that it musthaveceased but lately and that it was the sudden cessation whichhaddisturbed him. The fire had fallen low, but still it threw outa deep redglow. As he looked he started in spite of his sangfroid.There, on the great high-backed carved oak chair by theright side of thefire-place sat an enormous rat, steadily glaringat him with baleful eyes.He made a motion to it as though to huntit away, but it did not stir. Thenhe made the motion of throwingsomething. Still it did not stir, but showedits great white teethangrily, and its cruel eyes shone in the lamplightwith an addedvindictiveness.Malcolmson felt amazed, and seizing the poker fromthe hearth ran at it tokill it. Before, however, he could strikeit the rat, with a squeak thatsounded like the concentration ofhate, jumped upon the floor, and, runningup the rope of the alarmbell, disappeared in the darkness beyond the rangeof the green-shadedlamp. Instantly, strange to say, the noisy scampering ofthe ratsin the wainscot began again.By this time Malcolmson's mind wasquite off the problem, and as a shrillcock-crow outside told himof the approach of morning, he went to bed and tosleep.He sleptso sound that he was not even waked by Mrs. Dempster coming intomake up his room. It was only when she had tided up the placeand got hisbreakfast ready and tapped on the screen which closedin his bed that hewoke. He was a little tired still after hisnight's hard work, but a strongcup of tea soon freshened him upand, taking his book, he went out for hismorning walk, bringingwith him a few sandwiches lest he should not care toreturn tilldinner-time. He found a quiet walk between high elms somewayoutside the town, and here he spent the greater part of theday studying hisLaplace. On his return he looked in to see Mrs.Witham and to thank her forher kindness. When she saw him comingthrough the diamond-paned bay windowof her sanctum she came outto meet him and asked him in. She looked at himsearchingly andshook her head as she said:"You must not overdo it, sir. Youare paler this morning than you should be.Too late hours and toohard 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,Iwas glad when Mrs. Dempster told me this morning that you wereall rightand sleeping sound when she went in.""Oh, Iwas all right," he answered smiling, "The 'somethings'didn't worryme, as yet. Only the rats, and they had a circus, Itell you, all over theplace. There was one wicked-looking olddevil that sat up on my own chair bythe fire, and wouldn't gotill I took the poker to him, and then he ran upthe rope of thealarm bell and got to somewhere up the wall or the ceiling-- Icouldn't see where, it was so dark.""Mercy on us,"said Mrs. Witham, "an old devil, and sitting on a chairbythe fireside! Take care, sir! take care! There's many a trueword spoken injest.""How do you mean? 'Pon my word, Idon't understand.""An old devil! The old devil, perhaps.There! sir, you needn't laugh," forMalcolmson had brokeninto a hearty peal. "You young folks think it easy tolaughat things that makes older ones shudder. Never mind, sir! nevermind!Please God, you'll laugh all the time. It's what I wish youmyself!" and thegood lady beamed all over in sympathy withhis enjoyment, her fears gone fora moment."Oh, forgive me,"said Malcolmson presently. "Don't think me rude, but theideawas too much for me -- that the old devil himself was on thechair lastnight!" And at the thought he laughed again. Thenhe went home to dinner.This evening the scampering of the ratsbegan earlier, indeed it had beengoing on before his arrival, andonly ceased whilst his presence by itsfreshness disturbed them.After dinner he sat by the fire for a while andhad a smoke, andthen, having cleared his table, began to work as before.To-nightthe rats disturbed him more than they had done on thepreviousnight.How they scampered up and down and under and over!How they squeaked andscratched and gnawed! How they, gettingbolder by degrees, came to themouths of their holes and to thechinks and cracks and crannies in thewainscoting till their eyesshone like tiny lamps as the firelight rose andfell. But to him,now doubtless accustomed to them, their eyes were notwicked, onlytheir playfulness touched him. Sometimes the boldest of themmadesallies out on the floor or along the mouldings of the wainscot.Nowand again as they disturbed him Malcolmson made a sound tofrighten them,smiting the table with his hand or giving a fierce"Hsh, hsh," so that theyfled straightway to their holes.Andso the early part of the night wore on, and despite the noiseMalcolmsongot more and more immersed in his work.All at once hestopped, as on the previous night, being overcome by asuddensilence. There was not the faintest sound of gnaw, orscratch, or squeak.The silence was as of the grave.He rememberedthe odd occurrence of the previous night, and instinctivelyhelooked at the chair standing close by the fireside. And then avery oddsensation thrilled through him.There, on the great oldhigh-backed carved oak chair beside the fireplacesat the sameenormous rat, steadily glaring at him with baleful eyes.Instinctivelyhe took the nearest thing to his hand, a book of logarithms,andflung it at it. The book was badly aimed and the rat did notstir, soagain the poker performance of the previous night wasrepeated, and againthe rat, being closely pursued, fled up therope of the alarm bell.Strangely, too, the departure of this ratwas instantly followed by therenewal of the noise made by thegeneral rat community. On this occasion, ason the previous one,Malcolmson could not see at what part of the room theratdisappeared, for the green shade of his lamp left the upper partof theroom in darkness and the fire had burned low.On looking athis watch he found it was close on midnight, and, not sorryforthe divertissement, he made up his fire and made himself hisnightly potof tea. He had got through a good spell of work, andthought himselfentitled to a cigarette, and so he sat on thegreat carved oak chair beforethe fire and enjoyed it. Whilstsmoking he began to think that he would liketo know where the ratdisappeared to, for he had certain ideas for themorrow notentirely disconnected with a rat-trap. Accordingly he litanotherlamp and placed it so that it would shine well into theright-hand corner ofthe wall by the fireplace. Then he got allthe books he had with him, andplaced them handy to throw at thevermin. Finally he lifted the rope of thealarm bell and placedthe 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. "Youcould hang aman with it," he thought to himself. When hispreparations were made helooked around, and said complacently:"Therenow, my friend, I think we shall learn something of you this time!"Hebegan his work again, and though, as before, somewhat disturbedat firstby the noise of the rats, soon lost himself in hisproposition and problems.Again he was called to his immediatesurroundings suddenly. This time itmight not have been the suddensilence only which took his attention; therewas a slight movementof the rope, and the lamp moved. Without stirring, helooked tosee if his pile of books was within range, and then cast hiseyealong the rope. As he looked he saw the great rat drop fromthe rope on theoak arm-chair and sit there glaring at him. Heraised a book in his righthand, and taking careful aim, flung itat the rat. The latter, with a quickmovement, sprang aside anddodged the missile. Then he took another book,and a third, andflung them one after the other at the rat, but eachtimeunsuccessfully. At last, as he stood with a book poised inhis hand tothrow, the rat squeaked and seemed afraid. This madeMalcolmson more thanever eager to strike, and the book flew andstruck the rat a resoundingblow. It gave a terrified squeak, andturning on his pursuer a look ofterrible malevolence, ran up thechair- back and made a great jump to therope of the alarm belland ran up it like lightning. The lamp rocked underthe suddenstrain, but it was a heavy one and did not topple over.Malcolmsonkept his eyes on the rat, and saw it by the light of thesecondlamp leap to a moulding of the wainscot and disappearthrough a hole in oneof the great pictures which hung on thewall, obscured and invisible throughits coating of dirt and dust."Ishall look up my friend's habitation in the morning," saidthe student,as he went over to collect his books. "The thirdpicture from the fireplace,I shall not forget." He picked upthe books one by one, commenting on themas he lifted them. ConicSections he does not mind, nor CycloidOscillations, nor thePrincipia, nor Quaternions, nor Thermodynamics. Nowfor a look atthe book that fetched him!" Malcolmson took it up andlookedat it. As he did so he started, and a sudden palloroverspread his face. Helooked round uneasily and shiveredslightly, as he murmured to himself:"The Bible my mothergave me! What an odd coincidence." He sat down to workagain,and the rats in the wainscot renewed their gambols. They didnotdisturb him, however; somehow their presence gave him a senseofcompanionship. But he could not attend to his work, and afterstriving tomaster the subject on which he was engaged gave it upin despair, and wentto bed as the first streak of dawn stole inthrough the eastern window.He slept heavily but uneasily, anddreamed much, and when Mrs. Dempster wokehim late in the morninghe seemed ill at ease, and for a few minutes did notseem torealize exactly where he was. His first request rather surprisedtheservant."Mrs. Dempster, when I am out to-day I wish youwould get the steps and dustor wash those pictures -- speciallythat one the third from the fireplace --I want to see what theyare."Late in the afternoon Malcolmson worked at his books inthe shaded walk, andthe cheerfulness of the previous day cameback to him as the day wore on,and he found that his reading wasprogressing well. He had worked out to asatisfactory conclusionall the problems which had as yet baffled him, andit was in astate of jubilation that he paid a visit to Mrs. Witham at "TheGoodTraveller." He found a stranger in the cosy sitting-roomwith thelandlady, who was introduced to him as Dr. Thornhill. Shewas not quite atease, and this, combined with the doctor'splunging at once into a series ofquestions, made Malcolmson cometo the conclusion that his presence was notan accident, sowithout preliminary he said:"Dr. Thornhill, I shall withpleasure answer you any question you may chooseto ask me if youwill answer me one question first."The doctor seemedsurprised, but he smiled and answered at once, "Done! Whatisit?""Did Mrs. Witham ask you to come here and see meand advise me?"Dr. Thornhill for a moment was taken aback,and Mrs. Witham got fiery redand turned away, but the doctor wasa frank and ready man, and he answeredat once and openly:"Shedid, but she didn't intend you to know it. I suppose it was myclumsyhaste that made you suspect. She told me that she did notlike the idea ofyour being in that house all by yourself, andthat she thought you took toomuch strong tea. In fact, she wantsme to advise you, if possible, to giveup the tea and the verylate hours. I was a keen student in my time, so Isuppose I maytake the liberty of a college man, and without offence, adviseyounot quite as a stranger."Malcolmson with a bright smile heldout his hand. "Shake -- as they say inAmerica," he said."I must thank you for your kindness, and Mrs. Witham too,andyour kindness deserves a return on my part. I promise to take nomorestrong tea -- no tea at all till you let me -- and I shall goto bedto-night at one o'clock at latest. Will that do?""Capital,"said the doctor. "Now tell us all that you noticed in theoldhouse," and so Malcolmson then and there told in minutedetail all that hadhappened in the last two nights. He wasinterrupted every now and then bysome exclamation from Mrs.Witham, till finally when he told of the episodeof the Bible thelandlady's pent-up emotions found vent in a shriek, and itwas nottill a stiff glass of brandy and water had been administeredthatshe grew composed again. Dr. Thornhill listened with a faceof growinggravity, and when the narrative was complete and Mrs.Witham had beenrestored he asked:"The rat always went up therope of the alarm bell?""Always.""I supposeyou know," said the Doctor after a pause, "what thatrope is?""No?""It is," said the Doctorslowly, "the very rope which the hangman used forall thevictims of the Judge's judicial rancour!" Here he wasinterrupted byanother scream from Mrs. Witham, and steps had tobe taken for her recovery.Malcolmson having looked at his watch,and found that it was close to hisdinner-hour, had gone homebefore her complete recovery.When Mrs. Witham was herself againshe almost assailed the Doctor with angryquestions as to what hemeant by putting such horrible ideas into the pooryoung man'smind. "He has quite enough there already to upset him,"sheadded.Dr. Thornhill replied:"My dear madam, I had adistinct 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-wroughtstate, and has been studying too much, although I ambound to saythat he seems as sound and healthy a young man, mentallyandbodily, as ever I saw -- but then the rats -- and thatsuggestion of thedevil." The doctor shook his head and wenton. "I would have offered to goand stay the first night withhim but that I felt sure it would have been acause of offence. Hemay get in the night some strange fright orhallucination, and ifhe does I want him to pull that rope. All alone as heis it willgive 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 earsopen. Do notbe alarmed if Benchurch gets a surprise beforemorning.""Oh, Doctor, what do you mean? What do youmean?""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 thoughtof.When Malcolmson arrived home he found that it was a littleafter his usualtime, and Mrs. Dempster had gone away -- the rulesof Greenhow's Charitywere not to be neglected. He was glad to seethat the place was bright andtidy with a cheerful fire and a well-trimmedlamp. The evening was colderthan might have been expected inApril, and a heavy wind was blowing withsuch rapidly-increasingstrength 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 theybeganagain. He was glad to hear them, for he felt once more thefeeling ofcompanionship in their noise, and his mind ran back tothe strange fact thatthey only ceased to manifest themselves whenthe other -- the great rat withthe baleful eyes -- came upon thescene. The reading- lamp only was lit andits green shade kept theceiling and the upper part of the room in darknessso that thecheerful light from the hearth spreading over the floorandshining on the white cloth laid over the end of the table waswarm andcheery. Malcolmson sat down to his dinner with a goodappetite and a buoyantspirit. After his dinner and a cigarette hesat steadily down to work,determined not to let anything disturbhim, for he remembered his promise tothe doctor, and made up hismind to make the best of the time at hisdisposal.For an hour orso he worked all right, and then his thoughts began to wanderfromhis books. The actual circumstances around him, and the calls onhisphysical attention, and his nervous susceptibility were not tobe denied. Bythis time the wind had become a gale, and the gale astorm. The old house,solid though it was, seemed to shake to itsfoundation, and the storm roaredand raged through its manychimneys and its queer old gables, producingstrange, unearthlysounds in the empty rooms and corridors. Even the greatalarm-bellon the roof must have felt the force of the wind, for theroperose and fell slightly, as though the bell were moved alittle from time totime, and the limber rope fell on the oakfloor with a hard and hollowsound.As Malcolmson listened to it hebethought himself of the doctor's words, "Itis the ropewhich the hangman used for the victims of the Judge'sjudicialrancour," and he went over to the corner of thefireplace and took it in hishand to look at it. There seemed asort of deadly interest in it, and as hestood there he losthimself for a moment in speculation as to who thesevictims were,and the grim wish of the Judge to have such a ghastly reliceverunder his eyes. As he stood there the swaying of the bell on theroofstill lifted the rope now and again, but presently there camea newsensation -- a sort of tremor in the rope, as thoughsomething was movingalong it.Looking up instinctively Malcolmsonsaw the great rat coming slowly downtowards him, glaring at himsteadily. He dropped the rope and started backwith a mutteredcurse, and the rat turning ran up the slope again anddisappeared,and at the same instant Malcolmson became conscious that thenoiseof the other rats, which had ceased for a while, began again.Allthis set him thinking, and it occurred to him that he hadnotinvestigated the lair of the rat or looked at the pictures, ashe hadintended. He lit the other lamp without the shade, and,holding it up wentand stood opposite the third picture from thefireplace on the right-handside where he had seen the ratdisappear on the previous night.At the first glance he startedback so suddenly that he almost dropped thelamp, and a deadlypallor overspread his face.His knees shook, and heavy drops ofsweat came on his forehead, and hetrembled like an aspen. But hewas young and plucky, and pulled himselftogether, and after thepause of a few seconds stepped forward again, raisedthe lamp, andexamined the picture which had been dusted and washed, andnowstood out clearly.It was of a judge dressed in his robes ofscarlet and ermine. His face wasstrong and merciless, evil,crafty and vindictive, with a sensual mouth,hooked nose of ruddycolour, and shaped like the beak of a bird of prey. Therest ofthe face was of a cadaverous colour. The eyes were ofpeculiarbrilliance and with a terribly malignant expression. Ashe looked at them,Malcolmson grew cold, for he saw there the verycounterpart of the eyes ofthe great rat. The lamp almost fellfrom his hand, he saw the rat with itsbaleful eyes peering outthrough the hole in the corner of the picture, andnoted thesudden cessation of the noise of the other rats. However,hepulled himself together, and went on with his examination ofthe picture.The Judge was seated in a great high-backed carvedoak chair, on theright-hand side of a great stone fireplacewhere, in the corner, a rope hungdown from the ceiling, its endlying coiled on the floor. With a feeling ofsomething likehorror, Malcolmson recognized the scene of the room as itstood,and gazed around him in an awestruck manner as though he expectedtofind some strange presence behind him. Then he looked over tothe corner ofthe fireplace -- and with a loud cry he let the lampfall from his hand.There, in the judge's arm-chair, with the ropehanging behind, sat the ratwith the Judge's baleful eyes, nowintensified as with a fiendish leer. Savefor the howling of thestorm without there was silence.The fallen lamp recalledMalcolmson to himself. Fortunately it was of metal,and so the oilwas not spilt. However, the practical need of attending toitsettled at once his nervous apprehensions. When he had turnedit out, hewiped his brow and thought for a moment."This willnot do," he said to himself. "If I go on like this Ishall becomea crazy fool. This must stop! I promised the doctor Iwould not take tea.Faith, he was pretty right! My nerves musthave been getting into a queerstate. Funny I did not notice it. Inever felt better in my life. However,it is all right now, and Ishall not be such a fool again."Then he mixed himself a goodstiff glass of brandy and water and resolutelysat down to hiswork.It was nearly an hour when he looked up from his book,disturbed by thesudden stillness. Without, the wind howled androared louder then ever, andthe rain drove in sheets against thewindows, beating like hail on theglass, but within there was nosound whatever save the echo of the wind asit roared in the greatchimney, and now and then a hiss as a few raindropsfound theirway down the chimney in a lull of the storm. The fire hadfallenlow 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 roomwhere the rope hung down, and hethought it was the creaking ofthe rope on the floor as the swaying of thebell raised andlowered it. Looking up, however, he saw in the dim light thegreatrat clinging to the rope and gnawing it. The rope was alreadynearlygnawed through -- he could see the lighter colour where thestrands werelaid bare. As he looked the job was completed, andthe severed end of therope fell clattering on the oaken floor,whilst for an instant the great ratremained like a knob or tasselat the end of the rope, which now began tosway to and fro.Malcolmson felt for a moment another pang of terror as hethoughtthat now the possibility of calling the outer world tohisassistance was cut off, but an intense anger took its place,and seizing thebook he was reading he hurled it at the rat. Theblow was well-aimed, butbefore the missile could reach him therat dropped off and struck the floorwith a soft thud. Malcolmsoninstantly rushed over towards him, but itdarted away anddisappeared in the darkness of the shadows of the room.Malcolmsonfelt that his work was over for the night, and determined thenandthere to vary the monotony of the proceedings by a hunt for therat, andtook off the green shade of the lamp so as to insure awider spreadinglight. As he did so the gloom of the upper part ofthe room was relieved,and in the new flood of light, great bycomparison with the previousdarkness, the pictures on the wallstood out boldly.From where he stood, Malcolmson saw rightopposite to him the third pictureon the wall from the right ofthe fireplace. He rubbed his eyes in surprise,and then a greatfear began to come upon him.In the centre of the picture was agreat irregular patch of brown canvas, asfresh as when it wasstretched on the frame. The background was as before,with chairand chimney-corner and rope, but the figure of the Judgehaddisappeared.Malcolmson, almost in a chill of horror, turnedslowly round, and then hebegan to shake and tremble like a man ina palsy. His strength seemed tohave left him, and he wasincapable of action or movement, hardly even ofthought. He couldonly see and hear.There, on the great high-backed carved oakchair sat the judge in his robesof scarlet and ermine, with hisbaleful eyes glaring vindictively, and asmile of triumph on theresolute cruel mouth, as he lifted with his hands ablack cap.Malcolmson felt as if the blood was running from his heart, asonedoes in moments of prolonged suspense. There was a singing in hisears.Without, he could hear the roar and howl of the tempest, andthrough it,swept on the storm, came the striking of midnight bythe great chimes in themarket-place. He stood for a space of timethat seemed to him endless stillas a statue, and with wide-open,horror-struck eyes, breathless. As theclock struck, so the smileof triumph on the Judge's face intensified, andat the last strokeof midnight he placed the black cap on his head.Slowly anddeliberately the Judge rose from his chair and picked up thepieceof rope of the alarm bell which lay on the floor, drew it throughhishands as if he enjoyed its touch and then deliberately beganto knot one endof it, fashioning it into a noose. This hetightened and tested with hisfoot, pulling hard at it till he wassatisfied and then making a runningnoose of it, which he held inhis hand. Then he began to move along thetable on the oppositeside of Malcolmson keeping his eyes on him until hehad passedhim, when with a quick movement he stood in front of the door.Malcolmsonthen began to feel that he was trapped, and tried to think ofwhathe should do. There was some fascination in the Judge's eyes,which henever took off him, and he had, perforce, to look. He sawthe 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 sawthe rope fall beside him, and heard it strikethe oaken floor.Again the Judge raised the noose and tried to ensnare him,everkeeping his baleful eyes fixed on him, and each time by a mightyeffortthe student just managed to evade it. So this went on formany times, theJudge seeming never discouraged nor discomposed atfailure, but playing as acat does with a mouse. At last indespair, which had reached its climax,Malcolmson cast a quickglance round him. The lamp seemed to have blazed up,and there wasa fairly good light in the room. At the many rat-holes and inthechinks and crannies of the wainscot he saw the rats' eyes, andthisaspect, that was purely physical, gave him a gleam of comfort.He lookedround and saw that the rope of the great alarm bell wasladen with rats.Every inch of it was covered with them, and moreand more were pouringthrough the small circular hole in theceiling whence it emerged, so thatwith their weight the bell wasbeginning to sway.Hark! it had swayed till the clapper hadtouched the bell. The sound was buta tiny one, but the bell wasonly beginning to sway, and it would increase.At the sound theJudge, who had been keeping his eyes fixed on Malcolmson,lookedup, and a scowl of diabolical anger overspread his face. Hiseyesfairly glowed like hot coals, and he stamped his foot with asound thatseemed to make the house shake. A dreadful peal ofthunder broke overhead ashe raised the rope again, whilst therats kept running up and down the ropeas though working againsttime. This time, instead of throwing it, he drewclose to hisvictim, and held open the noose as he approached. As hecamecloser there seemed something paralyzing in his verypresence, andMalcolmson stood rigid as a corpse. He felt theJudge's icy fingers touchhis throat as he adjusted the rope. Thenoose tightened -- tightened. Thenthe Judge, taking the rigidform of the student in his arms, carried himover and placed himstanding in the oak chair, and stepping up beside him,put hishand up and caught the end of the swaying rope of the alarm-bell.Ashe raised his hand the rats fled squeaking and disappearedthrough the holein the ceiling. Taking the end of the noose whichwas round Malcolmson'sneck he tied it to the hanging bell-rope,and then descending pulled awaythe chair. * * * * *When the alarm-bellof the Judge's House began to sound a crowd soonassembled. Lightsand torches of various kinds appeared, and soon a silentcrowd washurrying to the spot. They knocked loudly at the door, buttherewas no reply. Then they burst in the door, and poured intothe greatdining-room, the doctor at the head.There at the end ofthe rope of the great alarm-bell hung the body of thestudent, andon the face of the Judge in the picture was a malignant smile.