recklessness in dashing so hurriedly through the mist, would have
struck me as peculiar, but everything was so distorted by the fog that
at the moment I did not consider it. The door was still as he had left
it, partly open. I went up the path, and, after much 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
some one 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 nickering candle showed half-filled
wineglasses and the ashes of cigarettes. The greater part of the room
was in complete darkness.