that we seemed to go, and from the time that we took, that it must have been

nearer twelve. He sat at my side in silence all the time, and I was aware, more

than once when I glanced in his direction, that he was looking at me with great

intensity. The country roads seem to be not very good in that part of the

world, for we lurched and jolted terribly. I tried to look out of the windows

to see something of where we were, but they were made of frosted glass, and I

could make out nothing save the occasional bright blur of a passing light. Now

and then I hazarded some remark to break the monotony of the journey, but the

colonel answered only in monosyllables, and the conversation soon flagged. At

last, however, the bumping of the road was exchanged for the crisp smoothness

of a gravel-drive, and the carriage came to a stand. Colonel Lysander Stark

sprang out, and, as I followed after him, pulled me swiftly into a porch which

gaped in front of us. We stepped, as it were, right out of the carriage and

into the hall, so that I failed to catch the most fleeting glance of the front

of the house. The instant that I had crossed the threshold the door slammed

heavily behind us, and I heard faintly the rattle of the wheels as the carriage

drove away.


“It was pitch dark inside the house, and the colonel fumbled about

looking for matches and muttering under his breath. Suddenly a door opened at

the other end of the passage, and a long, golden bar of light shot out in our

direction. It grew broader, and a woman appeared with a lamp in her hand, which

she held above her head, pushing her face forward and peering at us. I could

see that she was pretty, and from the gloss with which the light shone upon her

dark dress I knew that it was a rich material. She spoke a few words in a

foreign tongue in a tone as though asking a question, and when my companion

answered in a gruff monosyllable she gave such a start that the lamp nearly