On the contrary, all was still and silent as death.
The grocer's was a large, old-fashioned house, built about the middle of the preceding century, or perhaps earlier, and had four stories, each projecting over the other, till the pile seemed completely to overhang the street.

The entire front, except the upper story, which was protected by oaken planks, was covered with panels of the same timber, and the projections were supported by heavy beams, embellished with grotesque carvings.

Three deeply-embayed windows, having stout wooden bars, filled with minute diamond panes, set in leaden frames, were allotted to each floor; while the like number of gables, ornamented with curiously-carved coignes, and long-moulded leaden spouts, shooting far into the street, finished the roof.

A huge sign, with the device of Noah's Ark, and the owner's name upon it, hung before the door.
After carefully examining the house, peeping through the chinks in the lower shutters, and discovering the grocer seated by the bedside of his son, though he could not make out the object of his solicitude, Wyvil decided upon attempting an entrance by the backyard.

To reach it, a court and a narrow alley, leading to an open space surrounded by high walls, had to be traversed.