nd you are tired; but that is
nothing. Take my advice, sir, and believe me it is for your good. Get
out of this house as soon as you can, and go home, though you have to
walk every step. I'll look after your horse, and you can send for it
in the morning."

Paul looked into the man's face astonished. "What nonsense, Gomez!"
he exclaimed. "Do you know what you are talking about! Why, I'm tired
out, and almost starved. Here I am and here I shall stop, unless your
mistress is as inhospitable as you are."

Gomez bowed, and closed the door. "Very good, sir; you will have your
own way, of course. But remember in the future that I was faithful,
I warned you. Come this way, sir. I will send your horse round to the
stables. The name of the lady of the house is Madame de Merteuill."

A little uneasy and very much mystified, Paul followed him across the
hall, and was silently ushered into a long, low drawing-room, a room
of nooks and corners, furnished in old-fashioned style, but with
perfect taste, and dimly lit with soft, shaded lamps. There was a
bright fire blazing on the hearth, and a pleasant sense of warmth in
the air.

At first it seemed as though the room was empty, but in a moment a
tall, pale-faced lady, with wonderfully dark eyes and grey hair,
rose from an easy chair behind the piano, and looked at him, at first
questioningly.

"I am afraid that you will consider this an unwarrantable intrusion,"
Paul said, bowing; "but the fact is, I lost my way riding home from
the hunt, and my horse cannot go a yard further. As for myself,
you can see what state I am in. I saw your lights, and have some
acquaintance with Major Harcourt, and not knowing that he had left,
I ventured here to throw myself upon his hospitality. My name is De
Vaux--Paul de Vaux; and although it is some distance to the Abbey, I
believe that we are next-door neighbours."

It was beginning to dawn upon Paul that he had somehow stumbled upon a
very strange household. During the whole of his speech, the lady whom
he was addressing had stood silent and transfixed, with wide-open eyes
and a terrible shrinking look of fear upon her face. She must be mad,
Paul concluded swiftly. What an ass Gomez was not to have told him!
While he was wondering how to get away, she spoke.

"Your name de Vaux, Paul de Vaux, near Vaux Abbey?"

He bowed, looking at her with fresh interest. His name seemed familiar
to her. In a moment or two the unnatural lethargy left her,