ss little better than a ruin,
the porch beams rotten, the front blinds sagging frightfully, the paint
blistered by the sun. Several of the windows were broken, and the
steps sagged and trembled under my weight. The front yard, a full half
acre in extent, was a tangled mass of bushes and weeds, a high,
untrimmed hedge shutting off all view of the road. The narrow brick
path winding through this mass of vegetation was scarcely discernible,
apparently seldom, if ever, used. I was unable to determine the
position of the gate so luxuriant was the weed growth, and thick the
shrubbery. From the foot of the steps a narrow passage trampled into
the dirt circled the corner of the house, disappearing within a few
feet. This was the only sign visible of human occupancy.

Convinced that this must lead to the rear, and possibly the negro
cabins where Coombs slept, I followed its tortuous windings, although
half afraid to desert my guardianship of the house even for this
purpose. Still there was little to be feared so long as Mrs. Bernard
remained securely locked in her room. I was freer for exploration now
than I would be later, and must know at once the conditions with which
we had to contend. Beyond doubt the woman was still asleep, and,
perhaps, by the time she aroused and appeared below stairs I could find
a reasonable explanation of all this mystery--something to smile over,
rather than fear. While this was but a vague hope, it still yielded me
a measure of courage as I picked my way cautiously along the south side
of the house, avoiding the windows as much as possible, until I emerged
into a somewhat clearer space of ground at the rear. The kitchen was
an ell, constructed of rough boards, but with shingle roof. The door
stood ajar, and I glanced in, only to find the room empty, the pots and
pans used the night before still unwashed.

There was nothing there to interest me, and I crossed a narrow space of
grass to where a broken picket fence was visible amid a fringe of
weeds. No description can fitly picture the gloomy desolation
surrounding that ramshackle place. It got upon the nerves, the decay,
the neglect apparent on every side. The very silence seemed
depressing. Evidently this fence, now a mere ruin, had once served to
protect a garden plot. But I saw merely a tangled mass of wild
vegetation, so thick and high as to obstruct the view. Narrow
footpaths branched in either direction, and I chose to follow