The very nails had rusted out of the walls, and the
creepers they should have supported hung down in ropy curtains.
Mr. Adams scratched his head.
"What I'd like to know," said he after a while, "is how to get the
cask up them steps."
"There'll be a cellar-door for sartin," Mr. Jope assured him
cheerfully. "You don't suppose the gentry takes their beer in at the
front, hey?"
"This," said Mr. Adams, "is rum; which is a totally different thing."
But he set down his barrow, albeit reluctantly, and followed his
shipmate up the entrance steps. The front door was massive, and
sheeted over with lead embossed in foliate and heraldic patterns.
Mr. Jope inserted the key, turned it with some difficulty, and pushed
the door wide. It opened immediately upon the great hall, and after
a glance within he removed his hat.
The hall, some fifty feet long, ran right across the waist of the
house, and was lit by tall windows at either end. Its floor was of
black and white marble in lozenge pattern. Three immense chandeliers
depended from its roof. Along each of the two unpierced walls,
against panels of peeling stucco, stood a line of statuary--heathen
goddesses, fauns, athletes and gladiators, with here and there a vase
or urn copied from the antique.
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