“We stopped as we met, and the new arrival, a sturdy-looking countryman, hearing of my plight, walked back with me for nearly a mile, and putting me on to a road gave me minute instructions how to reach a village some three miles distant. “I was so tired that three miles sounded like ten, and besides that, a little way off from the road I saw dimly a lighted window. I pointed it out, but my companion shuddered and looked round him uneasily. “‘You won’t get no good there,’ he said, hastily. “‘Why not?’ I asked. “‘There’s a something there, sir,’ he replied, ‘what ’tis I dunno, but the little ’un belonging to a gamekeeper as used to live in these parts see it, and it was never much good afterward. Some say as it’s a poor mad thing, others says as it’s a kind of animal; but whatever it is, it ain’t good to see.’ “‘Well, I’ll keep on, then,’ I said. ‘Goodnight.’ “He went back whistling cheerily until his footsteps died away in the distance, and I followed the road he had indicated until it divided into three, any one of which to a stranger might be said to lead straight on. I was now cold and tired, and having half made up my mind walked slowly back toward the house. “At first all I could see of it was the little patch of light at the window. I made for that until it disappeared suddenly, and I found myself walking into a tall hedge. I felt my way round this until I came to a small gate, and opening it cautiously, walked, not without some little nervousness, up a long path which led to the door. There was no light and no sound from within. Half repenting of my temerity I shortened my stick and knocked lightly upon the door. “I waited a couple of minutes and then knocked again, and my stick was still beating the door when it opened suddenly and a tall bony old woman, holding a candle, confronted me. “‘What do you want?’ she demanded gruffly. “‘I’ve lost my way,’ I said, civilly; ‘I want to get to Ashville.’ “‘Don’t know it,’ said the old woman. “She was about to close the door when a man emerged from a room at the side of the hall and came toward us. An old man of great height and breadth of shoulder. “‘Ashville is fifteen miles distant,’ he said slowly. “‘If you will direct me to the nearest village, I shall be grateful,’ I remarked. “He made no reply, but exchanged a quick, furtive glance with the woman. She made a gesture of dissent. “‘The nearest place is three miles off,’ he said, turning to me and apparently trying to soften a naturally harsh voice; ‘if you will give me the pleasure of your company, I will make you as comfortable as I can.’ “I hesitated. They were certainly a queer-looking couple, and the gloomy hall with the shadows thrown by the candle looked hardly more inviting than the darkness outside. “‘You are very kind,’ I murmured, irresolutely, ‘but—’ “‘Come in,’ he said quickly; ‘shut the door, Anne.’