The Mystery of the Downs | Page 3

the house loomed before him out
of the darkness.
The path led across the front of the house, but Marsland looked in vain
for a ray of light in the upper stories which would indicate that one of
the inmates was awake. He walked on till the path turned abruptly into
a large porch, and he knew he had reached the front door. Instead of
knocking, he walked past the porch in order to see if there was any light
visible on the far side of the house. It was with pleasure that he
observed a light glimmering through the second window on the ground
floor. Judging by the position of the window, it belonged to the room
immediately behind the front room on the right side of the house.
Marsland returned to the porch and vigorously plied the knocker on the
door, so that the sound should be heard above the storm. He listened

anxiously for approaching footsteps of heavily-shod feet, but the first
sound he heard was that of the bolt being drawn back.
"Where have you been?" exclaimed a feminine voice. "I have been
wondering what could have happened to you."
The girl who had opened the door to him had a candle in her hand. As
she spoke, she shielded the light with her other hand and lifted it to his
face. She uttered a startled exclamation.
"I beg your pardon," said Marsland, in an ingratiating tone. "I have lost
my way and my horse has gone lame. I have taken the liberty of putting
him in the outbuildings before coming to ask you for shelter from the
storm."
"To ask me?" she repeated. "Oh, of course. Please come in."
Marsland closed the door and followed her into the dark and silent hall.
She led the way into the room where he had seen the light, placed the
candle on the table, and retreated to a chair which was in the shadow. It
occurred to him that she was anxious to study him without being
exposed to his scrutiny. But he had noticed that she was wearing a hat
and a dark cloak. These things suggested to him that she had been on
the point of going out when the storm came on. The mistaken way in
which she had greeted him on opening the door seemed to show that
she had been waiting for some one who was to have accompanied her.
Apparently she was alone in the house when he had knocked.
"I am sorry to have intruded on you in this uncere-* *monious way," he
said, reviving his apology with the object of enabling her to dismiss
any fears at her own unprotected state. "I am completely lost, and when
I saw this house I thought the best thing I could do was to seek shelter."
"You are not intruding upon me," she said coldly. "The house is not
mine--I do not live here. I saw the storm coming on, and, like you, I
thought it was a good idea to seek shelter."
It was apparent to him that her greeting had been intended for some one

who had accompanied her to the house and had gone to one of the farm
buildings for some purpose. He noted that her manner of speaking was
that of a well-bred young lady rather than of a farmer's daughter.
The room in which they were sitting was evidently used as a parlour,
and was sombrely furnished in an old-fashioned way. There was a
horsehair suite, and in the middle of the room a large round table.
Glancing about him into the dark corners of the room which the feeble
light of the candle barely reached, Marsland noticed in one of them a
large lamp standing on a small table.
"That will give us a better light," he said; "providing, of course, it has
some oil in it."
He lifted the lamp to the centre table, and found it was nearly full of oil.
He lit it, and it sent out a strong light, which was, however, confined to
a radius of a few feet by a heavy lampshade. He glanced at the girl. She
had extinguished her candle, and her face remained obstinately in
shadow.
He sat down on one of the horsehair chairs; but his companion
remained standing a little distance away. They waited in silence thus
for some minutes. Marsland tried to think of something to say, but there
was a pensive aloofness about the girl's attitude which deterred him
from attempting to open a conversation with a conventional remark
about the violence of the storm. He listened for a knock at the front
door which would tell him that her companion had returned, but to his
surprise the minutes passed without any sign. He thought