The reason of this he found was not far to seek. Behind the latticed glazing of every window the strong shutters were closed and bolted, though it was now eleven o’clock of a sunny, brisk morning. He dismounted and tried the front door. It was fastened also. On the echo of his angry summons fell the sound of a light step within. “Who are you?” cried Darda’s voice shrilly through the keyhole. “Open, girl! What is the meaning of this?” She drew the bolts reluctantly--deliberately. In his impatience to enter he almost threw her down. “What is the meaning of this?” he repeated. She had backed into a shadowy angle of the hall, and thence looked at him with a sullen defiance. He had to again put his question, and harshly. “Oh!” she said, nodding at him with an angry look, “what trouble hasn’t your coming brought on us!” “Now,” he said peremptorily, “explain yourself.” “We lived at peace with the shadows and the spirits before,” she answered. “Since you came they take to worrying us; and they have made _his_ face like death.” “Whose face, you jade?” “_His_--my brother’s. They were about the house all last night--creeping, creeping, as soft as snow on withered leaves. He feared that they would get in, and he dared not rest or sleep till daylight came; and now he is on his bed.” Tuke strode to the end of the hall. “Whimple!” he thundered. “Come and take my horse!” He felt Darda’s breath at his ear, and turned to find she had come swiftly after him with her white face. “You devil!” she hissed. “You bring the evil, and then torture my Dennis from his sleep.” He put her sternly aside, and, twisting about for another violent summons, subsided into an “’umph!” of petulance. The man was standing silent before him, the same scared look in his eyes that he had learned to loathe. “Why is the house locked and sealed like this?” he demanded. “I dared not open it, sir, till you came.” The servant spoke in a faint, tired voice. “Dared not! and why?” said his master. Whimple looked about him helplessly, as if he sought a loophole of escape from the question. “Come,” said the other, “why did you not dare?” “I was frightened; terrified. There were noises and footsteps.” “The wind or any other natural cause. These bugbears don’t stalk in the daytime. A pretty caretaker, upon my word!” He looked at the fellow gloomily; hesitated, and, bidding him roughly see to his horse, turned into the dining-hall, closed the door, unbolted and threw open the shutters, and sat himself down before a dull fire.