"And for that reason the treasure should not long be allowed to remain here," answered the clergyman.
The hag chuckled:—the sound was between a hollow laugh and a death-rattle; and it seemed horrible to the ears of Reginald Tracy.
The old woman then slowly ascended the narrow and dark staircase, until she reached the landing, where she drew a key from her pocket, and leisurely applied it to the lock of a door.
She fumbled about so long with the key, muttering to herself all the while, that Reginald thought she would never open the door, and he offered to assist her.
But at that moment the key turned in the lock, and the door was slowly opened.
The hag beckoned the rector to follow her; and he found himself in a tolerably large room, decently furnished, and with an excellent fire burning in the grate.
There were no candles lighted; nor did the hag offer to provide any;—but the contents of the apartment were plainly visible by means of the strong glare of the fire.
Heavy curtains of a dark colour covered the windows: the floor was carpeted; the chairs and tables were of plain but solid material; and a large mirror stood over the mantel.
At the farther end of the room was a second door, which was now closed, but evidently communicated with an inner chamber.
"I gave the poor artist the best rooms in my house," observed the hag, as she placed a chair near the fire for the rector. "The statue stands in the adjoining chamber; you can inspect it at once, while I——"