She flew up the covered stairs and knocked upon his door. Startled by this circumstance, he looked around, and perceived that the trap-door,—which has been mentioned as communicating with a secret staircase,—was open. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. Rousing himself, he went to the door. She tugged at my coat and said, ‘I know of the blue-eyed maid. Following his guide, Sir Rowland found himself in a large and lofty apartment, the extent of which he could not entirely discern until lights were set upon the table. You’d think he wanted to meet the wretch again. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience.
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