The House in the Mist | Page 2

can not be far behind."
A queer greeting, certainly. But when I strove to question him as to its
meaning, his voice returned to me from such a distance that I doubted if
my words had reached him with any more distinctness than his answer
reached me.
"Well!" thought I, "it isn't as if a lodging had been denied me. He
invited me to enter, and enter I will."
The house, to which I now naturally directed a glance of much more
careful scrutiny than before, was no ordinary farm-building, but a
rambling old mansion, made conspicuously larger here and there by
jutting porches and more than one convenient lean-to. Though
furnished, warmed and lighted with candles, as I have previously
described, it had about it an air of disuse which made me feel myself an
intruder, in spite of the welcome I had received. But I was not in a
position to stand upon ceremony, and ere long I found myself inside the
great room and before the blazing logs whose glow had lighted up the
doorway and added its own attraction to the other allurements of the
inviting place.
Though the open door made a draft which was anything but pleasant, I
did not feel like closing it, and was astonished to observe the effect of
the mist through the square thus left open to the night. It was not an
agreeable one, and, instinctively turning my back upon that quarter of
the room, I let my eyes roam over the wainscoted walls and the odd
pieces of furniture which gave such an air of old-fashioned richness to
the place. As nothing of the kind had ever fallen under my eyes before,
I should have thoroughly enjoyed this opportunity of gratifying my
taste for the curious and the beautiful, if the quaint old chairs I saw
standing about me on every side had not all been empty. But the
solitude of the place, so much more oppressive than the solitude of the

road I had left, struck cold to my heart, and I missed the cheer
rightfully belonging to such attractive surroundings. Suddenly I
bethought me of the many other apartments likely to be found in so
spacious a dwelling, and, going to the nearest door, I opened it and
called out for the master of the house. But only an echo came back, and,
returning to the fire, I sat down before the cheering blaze, in quiet
acceptance of a situation too lonely for comfort, yet not without a
certain piquant interest for a man of free mind and adventurous
disposition like myself.
After all, if supper was to be served at nine, someone must be expected
to eat it: I should surely not be left much longer without companions.
Meanwhile ample amusement awaited me in the contemplation of a
picture which, next to the large fireplace, was the most prominent
object in the room. This picture was a portrait, and a remarkable one.
The countenance it portrayed was both characteristic and forcible, and
so interested me that in studying it I quite forgot both hunger and
weariness. Indeed its effect upon me was such that, after gazing at it
uninterruptedly for a few minutes, I discovered that its various
features--the narrow eyes in which a hint of craft gave a strange gleam
to their native intelligence; the steadfast chin, strong as the rock of the
hills I had wearily tramped all day; the cunning wrinkles which yet did
not interfere with a latent great-heartedness that made the face as
attractive as it was puzzling--had so established themselves in my mind
that I continued to see them before me whichever way I turned, and
found it impossible to shake off their influence even after I had
resolutely set my mind in another direction by endeavoring to recall
what I knew of the town into which I had strayed.
I had come from Scranton and was now, according to my best
judgment, in one of those rural districts of western Pennsylvania which
breed such strange and sturdy characters. But of this special
neighborhood, its inhabitants and its industries, I knew nothing nor was
likely to, so long as I remained in the solitude I have endeavored to
describe.
But these impressions and these thoughts--if thoughts they

were--presently received a check. A loud "Halloo" rose from
somewhere in the mist, followed by a string of muttered imprecations,
which convinced me that the person now attempting to approach the
house was encountering some of the many difficulties which had beset
me in the same undertaking a few minutes before.
I therefore raised my voice and shouted out, "Here! this way!" after
which I sat still and awaited developments.
There was a huge clock in one of the corners, whose loud tick filled