fumbling, found the knob of the door-bell and gave it a sharp pull.
The bell answered me from a great depth and distance, but no movement
followed from inside the house, and, although I pulled the bell again
and again, I could hear nothing save the dripping of the mist about
me. I was anxious to be on my way, but unless I knew where I was
going there was little chance of my making any speed, and I was
determined that until I learned my bearings I would not venture back
into the fog. So I pushed the door open and stepped into the house.

"I found myself in a long and narrow hall, upon which doors opened
from either side. At the end of the hall was a staircase with a
balustrade which ended in a sweeping curve. The balustrade was
covered with heavy, Persian rugs, and the walls of the hall were also
hung with them. The door on my left was closed, but the one nearer me
on the right was open, and, as I stepped opposite to it, I saw that
it was a sort of reception or waiting-room, and that it was empty.
The door below it was also open, and, with the idea that I would
surely find someone there, I walked on up the hall. I was in evening
dress, and I felt I did not look like a burglar, so I had no great
fear that, should I encounter one of the inmates of the house, he
would shoot me on sight. The second door in the hall opened into a
dining-room. This was also empty. One person had been dining at the
table, but the cloth had not been cleared away, and a flickering
candle showed half-filled wineglasses and the ashes of cigarettes.
The greater part of the room was in complete darkness.

"By this time I had grown conscious of the fact that I was wandering
about in a strange house, and that, apparently, I was alone in it.
The silence of the place began to try my nerves, and in a sudden,
unexplainable panic I started for the open street. But as I turned, I