So the party went upstairs, followed at a distance by Bridget, who, influenced alike by fear and curiosity, did not know whether to go up or retreat.
The sounds were easily traced to room No. 237. In front of this, therefore, the party congregated.
“What's the matter in there?” asked James, the first servant, putting his lips to the keyhole.
“Yes,” chimed in Mr. Piper, irritably; “what do you mean by such an infernal hubbub?”
“Open the door, and let me out,” returned Paul, eagerly.
The party looked at each other in surprise. They did not expect to find the desperate maniac a boy.
“Perhaps there's more than one of them,” suggested the second servant, prudently.
“Why don't you come out yourself?” asked James. “I am locked in.”
The door was opened with a passkey and Paul confronted the party.
“Now, young man, what do you mean by making such a disturbance?” demanded Mr. Piper, excitably. “My room is just below, and I expected every minute you would come through.”