She turned into the rooms; the windows of both looking on this confined yard. In the one room, crowded with guns, fishing-rods, dog-collars, boxing gloves, and other implements used by the young men, she stood a minute, scanning it curiously. In the other, on the opposite side the passage, was a closed desk-table, a telescope and weather-glass, some armchairs, pipes, and tobacco. "This is the room I have heard Mr. Thornycroft call his den," said she, quickly. "It is. The other one is mine and my brother's." A narrow twisting staircase led to the two rooms above. My lady, twisting up it, turned into one of the two--Richard's bed-chamber. The window looked to the dreary line of coast stretching forward in the distance. "Who sleeps in the other room?" she asked. "Hyde. This part of the house is lonely, and I choose to have him within call." In her amazement to hear him say this--the brave strong man, whom no physical fear could daunt--a thought arose that the superstition obtaining at the Red Court, whatever it might be, was connected with these shut-in-rooms; shut in from within and without. Somehow the feeling was not pleasant to her, and she turned to descend the stairs. "But, Mr. Richard, why do you sleep here yourself?" "I would not change my room for another; I am used to it. At one time no one slept here, but my mother grew to think it was not safe at night. She was nervous at the last." He held the passage-door open, and raised his hat, which he had worn all the while, as she went through it, then shut it with a loud, decisive click. "A sort of intimation that I am not wanted there," thought she. "He need not fear; there's nothing so pleasant to go for, rather the contrary." In the afternoon, tired of being alone, she put on her things to go out, and met Mr. Thornycroft. She began a shower of questions. Where had he been? What doing? Where were all of them--Isaac--Mary Anne? Not a soul had she seen the whole day, except Richard. Mr. Thornycroft lifted his finger to command attention, as he answered her. It would be better that they should at once begin as they were to go on; and she, his lady wife, must not expect to get a categorical account of daily movements. He never presumed to ask his sons how their days were spent. Farmers--farming a large tract of land--had to be in fifty places at least in the course of the day; here, and there, and everywhere. This applied to himself as well as to his sons. When Cyril came home he could attend upon her; he had nothing to do with the out-door work, and never would have. "Hyde said you rode out this morning." "I had business at Dartfield: have just got home." "Dartfield! where's that?" "A place five or six miles away: with a dreary road to it, too," added the justice. "Won't you walk with me?" she pleaded, in the soft manner that had, so attracted him before marriage. "If you like. Let us go for a stroll on the heath." "Where is Mary Anne?" she inquired, as they went on.