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So
I
set
forward
by
a
little
faint
track
in
the
grass
that
led
in
my
direction
.
It
was
very
faint
indeed
to
be
the
only
way
to
a
place
of
habitation
;
yet
I
saw
no
other
.
Presently
it
brought
me
to
stone
uprights
,
with
an
unroofed
lodge
beside
them
,
and
coats
of
arms
upon
the
top
.
A
main
entrance
it
was
plainly
meant
to
be
,
but
never
finished
;
instead
of
gates
of
wrought
iron
,
a
pair
of
hurdles
were
tied
across
with
a
straw
rope
;
and
as
there
were
no
park
walls
,
nor
any
sign
of
avenue
,
the
track
that
I
was
following
passed
on
the
right
hand
of
the
pillars
,
and
went
wandering
on
toward
the
house
.
The
nearer
I
got
to
that
,
the
drearier
it
appeared
.
It
seemed
like
the
one
wing
of
a
house
that
had
never
been
finished
.
What
should
have
been
the
inner
end
stood
open
on
the
upper
floors
,
and
showed
against
the
sky
with
steps
and
stairs
of
uncompleted
masonry
.
Many
of
the
windows
were
unglazed
,
and
bats
flew
in
and
out
like
doves
out
of
a
dove-cote
.
The
night
had
begun
to
fall
as
I
got
close
;
and
in
three
of
the
lower
windows
,
which
were
very
high
up
and
narrow
,
and
well
barred
,
the
changing
light
of
a
little
fire
began
to
glimmer
.
Was
this
the
palace
I
had
been
coming
to
?
Was
it
within
these
walls
that
I
was
to
seek
new
friends
and
begin
great
fortunes
?
Why
,
in
my
father
's
house
on
Essen-Waterside
,
the
fire
and
the
bright
lights
would
show
a
mile
away
,
and
the
door
open
to
a
beggar
's
knock
!
I
came
forward
cautiously
,
and
giving
ear
as
I
came
,
heard
some
one
rattling
with
dishes
,
and
a
little
dry
,
eager
cough
that
came
in
fits
;
but
there
was
no
sound
of
speech
,
and
not
a
dog
barked
.
The
door
,
as
well
as
I
could
see
it
in
the
dim
light
,
was
a
great
piece
of
wood
all
studded
with
nails
;
and
I
lifted
my
hand
with
a
faint
heart
under
my
jacket
,
and
knocked
once
.
Then
I
stood
and
waited
.
The
house
had
fallen
into
a
dead
silence
;
a
whole
minute
passed
away
,
and
nothing
stirred
but
the
bats
overhead
.
I
knocked
again
,
and
hearkened
again
.
By
this
time
my
ears
had
grown
so
accustomed
to
the
quiet
,
that
I
could
hear
the
ticking
of
the
clock
inside
as
it
slowly
counted
out
the
seconds
;
but
whoever
was
in
that
house
kept
deadly
still
,
and
must
have
held
his
breath
.
I
was
in
two
minds
whether
to
run
away
;
but
anger
got
the
upper
hand
,
and
I
began
instead
to
rain
kicks
and
buffets
on
the
door
,
and
to
shout
out
aloud
for
Mr.
Balfour
.
I
was
in
full
career
,
when
I
heard
the
cough
right
overhead
,
and
jumping
back
and
looking
up
,
beheld
a
man
's
head
in
a
tall
nightcap
,
and
the
bell
mouth
of
a
blunderbuss
,
at
one
of
the
first-storey
windows
.
"
It
's
loaded
,
"
said
a
voice
.
"
I
have
come
here
with
a
letter
,
"
I
said
,
"
to
Mr.
Ebenezer
Balfour
of
Shaws
Is
he
here
?
"
