Truly it was almost tumbling down, though massively built, and a good house long ago; and it looked the more miserable now from being placed in a hollow of the ground, whose slopes were tufted with rushes and thistles and ragwort.

The lower windows were blocked up from within, the upper were shattered and crumbling and dangerous, with blocks of cracked stone jutting over them; and the last surviving chimney gave less smoke than a workman's homeward whiff of his pipe to comfort and relieve the air.
The only door that we could see was of heavy black oak, without any knocker; but I clinched my hand, having thick gloves on, and made what I thought a very creditable knock, while the Major stood by, with his blue-lights up, and keenly gazed and gently smiled.
"Knock again, my dear," he said; "you don't knock half hard enough." I knocked again with all my might, and got a bruised hand for a fortnight, but there was not even the momentary content produced by an active echo.

The door was as dead as every thing else.
"Now for my hammer," my companion cried.

"This house, in all sound law, is my own.

I will have a 'John Doe and Richard Roe'-- a fine action of ejectment.