The road wound up the slope, and I followed it and turned the corner. There was a great house, three stories high and as square as a child's block. If it had ever been painted, the paint had worn off, and the wood was almost black. For a hundred years or more the wind and rain and snow had beaten against it,--storms from the ocean, storms from the land, winds from all quarters, for except at one corner it was unprotected by trees. It stood on high ground, and faced the open water of the bay. Grass had grown rank all around, and there was no sign of anybody either indoors or out. There was an enormous barn behind the house, as well as woodsheds, and hen-houses. I stood still for a few moments, and then walked up the weed-grown path, and hammered on the front door with the brass knocker. The knocking echoed all over the house, and the door swung slowly open. It was my knocks which had opened it, however,--there was no one inside, so far as I could see. I looked into an empty hall, dusty and neglected. A broad staircase led upstairs, but the only thing in the hall was a pile of pink hand-bills lying on the floor. I thumped again with my knuckles on one of the panels of the door, and called out: "Anybody here?" There was no answer, and after hesitating a moment I decided to try the rear of the house. The driveway at the side was in the same neglected condition as the front path. The only thing about the place which looked at all new was a sort of wooden stand, built out of boards and packing boxes. This was decorated with flags and colored bunting, as if for a band-concert. It stood at one side of the driveway in what had once been a little garden. The barn and other buildings at the rear were shabby and ill-kept. I pounded at a side-door, and at a door in the back, but there was no answer at either. Then I began to wonder what to do. Evidently Captain Bannister was not here, but why had he said he was coming to such a place? What had made him think he would find the "Hoppergrass" here? Where were the men about whom the boy on the horse-car had told me? I strolled to the front of the house again, crossed the road, and looked down the hill toward the bay. There was a little wharf at the foot of the hill, and at the end of it was another of the white cloth signs. It faced out over the water, so I could not read what it said. Some planks, boards, and shavings lay about, as if someone had been working there recently. I thought I would go down and investigate. As I still had on rubber-soled shoes, I suppose I walked noiselessly. I had not stepped upon the woodwork before I noticed a trap-door near the end of the wharf. I walked over to it and looked down.