as adding horrors
to those which already actually existed, so that I should presently
find myself unable to distinguish the real from the imaginary.

At the end of half an hour's steady tramping I saw before me a place
where a wood dipped down to the wayside so that its trees cast a broad
shadow across the path. I knew that the entrance to the farm lay just
beyond; and, pressing on past the trees, I saw many outbuildings
having none of that deserted appearance which characterized the
neighboring homesteads of Upper Crossleys. Twenty yards beyond the
farm itself appeared in view.

There was some sign of activity about the yard, and, walking briskly
forward, I presently found myself looking into a stone-paved place
containing numbers of milk-cans. Here a woman was engaged in sweeping
the floor, and:

"I have called to see Mr. Edward Hines," I said. "Can you tell me
where I shall find him?"

The woman stared at me in a strange and almost stupefied manner.

"Is he a friend of yours?" she inquired.

"He is not exactly a friend of mine," I continued; "but I have very
particular business with him."

She continued to stare in that curious way and remained silent for so
long that I began to think she was not going to reply, when:

"If Mr. Edward is not expecting you," she said, "I don't know that I
should advise you to go in. He is not very well just now--and he is
sometimes rather strange."

"I know," I said. "I quite understand; but he will be willing to see
me when he knows what I have come about. Shall I find him yonder?"

I pointed towards an open door leading to which was a neat, graveled
path lined by well-kept flower-beds, and which I took to be the main
entrance to the farm.

"Well, sir," said the woman doubtfully, "they'll tell you there if Mr.
Edward is to be seen; but I don't advise it"

"That's all right!" I cried, and proceeded in the direction of the
doorway.

I presently obtained a view of a cozily furnished room, where a
white-haired old lady was bustling about engaged in some domestic
duties. I paused at the threshold.

"My name is Addison," I said. "Would it be possible for me to have a
few minutes' conversation with Mr. Edward Hines?"

The old lady (whom I suspected to be the mother of the youth whom I
was seeking) paused in the midst of her task and looked at me in a
troubled way. It was evident enough that the reputation of Mr. Edward
was the same in his home as elsewhere, and it occurre