om, and I will be only too glad to come
to you."

I glanced up at the rope, ran my eye along the wire communicating with
it, and saw that it was broken sheer off before it even entered into the
wall.

"I am afraid you will not hear me," I answered, pointing to the break.

She flushed a deep scarlet, and for a moment looked as embarrassed as
ever her sister had done.

"I did not know," she murmured. "The house is so old, everything is more
or less out of repair." And she made haste to quit the room.

I stepped after her in grim determination.

"But there is no key to the door," I objected.

She came back with a look that was as nearly desperate as her placid
features were capable of.

"I know," she said, "I know. We have nothing. But if you are not
afraid--and of what could you be afraid in this house, under our
protection, and with a good dog outside?--you will bear with things
to-night, and--Good God!" she murmured, but not so low but that my
excited sense caught every syllable, "can she have heard? Has the
reputation of this place gone abroad? Miss Butterworth," she repeated
earnestly, "the house contains no cause of terror for you. Nothing
threatens our guest, nor need you have the least concern for yourself or
us, whether the night passes in quiet or whether it is broken by
unaccountable sounds. They will have no reference to anything in which
you are interested."

"Ah, ha," thought I, "won't they! You give me credit for much
indifference, my dear." But I said nothing beyond a few soothing
phrases, which I made purposely short, seeing that every moment I
detained her was just so much unnecessary torture to her. Then I went
back to my room and carefully closed the door. My first night in this
dismal and strangely ordered house had opened anything but propitiously.

VII

THE FIRST NIGHT

I spoke with a due regard to truth when I assured Miss Knollys that I
entertained no fears at the prospect of sleeping apart from the rest of
the family. I am a woman of courage--or so I have always believed--and
at home occupy my second floor alone without the least apprehension. But
there is a difference in these two abiding-places, as I think you are
ready by this time to acknowledge, and, though I felt little of what is
called fear, I certainly did not experience my usual satisfaction in the
minute preparations with which I am accustomed to make myself
comfortable for the night. There was a gloom both withi