wall. About the pool some elder trees and elms grew and overhung, and
their boughs tapped like fingers upon the window-panes. Mitchelbourne
was assured that the house was inhabited, since from one of the
windows a strong yellow light blazed, and whenever a sharper gust blew
the branches aside, swept across the face of the pool like a flaw of
wind.

The lighted window was in the lowest storey, and Mitchelbourne, from
the back of his horse, could see into the room. He was mystified
beyond expression by what he saw. A deal table, three wooden chairs,
some ragged curtains drawn back from the window, and a single lamp
made up the furniture. The boards of the floor were bare and unswept;
the paint peeled in strips from the panels of the walls; the
discoloured ceiling was hung with cobwebs; the room in a word matched
the outward aspect of the house in its look of long disuse. Yet it had
occupants. Three men were seated at the table in the scarlet coats and
boots of the King's officers. Their faces, though it was winter-time,
were brown with the sun, and thin and drawn as with long privation and
anxiety. They had little to say to one another, it seemed. Each man
sat stiffly in a sort of suspense and expectation, with now and then a
restless movement or a curt word as curtly answered.

Mitchelbourne rode back again, crossed the bridge, fastened his horse
to a tree in the garden, and walked down the avenue to the door. As he
mounted the steps, he perceived with something of a shock, that the
door was wide open and that the void of the hall yawned black before
him. It was a fresh surprise, but in this night of surprises, one more
or less, he assured himself, was of little account. He stepped into
the hall and walked forwards feeling with his hands in front of him.
As he advanced, he saw a thin line of yellow upon the floor ahead of