house; approaching the front of it, I may say, at an angle. My footsteps
made a noise like a cart and horse, and instantly down went the blind of
the nearest window of the ground floor.

I stopped dead instinctively and looked at this bleak mansion narrowly.
At the angle from which I had approached the front, I could see the blind
go down quite plainly, but it was impossible to get even a glimpse into
the room behind it.

"What the devil!" I murmured.

And then I told myself that I was really getting too suspicious. It
must be a lady's bed-room obviously. The ground floor near the front
door seemed an odd place for such an apartment. Still, one never knows
what a lady's fancy may be. In any case there was nothing to be
achieved by standing there staring, so I resumed my resounding progress
across the pebbles.

I was at the front door and just going to ring, when round the corner of
the house, right ahead of me, appeared a gentleman, and my spirits fell
still further. I can't exactly say that his was a face I disliked, but
it was decidedly not one I took to. He had eyes set somewhat close
together, a well trimmed short black beard, and an expression in which I
seemed to read impudence and certainly read suspicion. He stopped at the
sight of me and looked me up and down at least as curiously as I studied
him. Only I trust I conducted my inspection less obviously.

"Mr. Rendall?" I enquired, and though I had come here meaning to confide
in him, I found myself instinctively putting in a touch of accent; not
with a wet brush as I did for the Scollays' benefit, still I threw in a