him
at the moment when his heart was lowest and despair at its culmination.

THE HOUSE IN THE MIST

(Copyright, 1905, by The Bobbs-Merrill Company Used by special
permission of the publishers)

I

AN OPEN DOOR

It was a night to drive any man indoors. Not only was the darkness
impenetrable, but the raw mist enveloping hill and valley made the open
road anything but desirable to a belated wayfarer like myself.

Being young, untrammelled, and naturally indifferent to danger, I was
not averse to adventure; and having my fortune to make, was always on
the lookout for El Dorado, which to ardent souls lies ever beyond the
next turning. Consequently, when I saw a light shimmering through the
mist at my right, I resolved to make for it and the shelter it so
opportunely offered.

But I did not realise then, as I do now, that shelter does not
necessarily imply refuge, or I might not have undertaken this adventure
with so light a heart. Yet who knows? The impulses of an unfettered
spirit lean toward daring, and youth, as I have said, seeks the strange,
the unknown, and sometimes the terrible.

My path towards this light was by no means an easy one. After confused
wanderings through tangled hedges, and a struggle with obstacles of
whose nature I received the most curious impression in the surrounding
murk, I arrived in front of a long, low building, which, to my
astonishment, I found standing with doors and windows open to the
pervading mist, save for one square casement, through which the light
shone from a row of candles placed on a long mahogany table.

The quiet and seeming emptiness of this odd and picturesque building
made me pause. I am not much affected by visible danger, but this silent
room, with its air of sinister expectancy, struck me most unpleasantly,
and I was about to reconsider my first impulse and withdraw again to the
road, when a second look thrown back upon the comfortable interior I was
leaving convinced me of my folly, and sent me straight toward the door
which stood so invitingly open.

But half-way up the path my progress was again stayed by the sight of a
man issuing from the house I had so rashly looked upon as devoid of all
human presence. He seemed in haste, and at the moment my eye first fell
on him was engaged in replacing his watch in his pocket.

But he did not shut the door behind him, which I thought odd, especially
as his final glance had been a backward one, and seemed to