ringing of the bell continued, and, above it, the hoarse, shrieking cry.

My father opened the door and went out, and we could hear him striding
down the gravel path, and we clung to one another and waited.

After what seemed an endless time, we heard the heavy gate unbarred, and
quickly clanged to, and footsteps returning on the gravel. Then the door
opened again, and my father entered, and behind him a crouching figure
that felt its way with its hands as it crept along, as a blind man might.
The figure stood up when it reached the middle of the hall, and mopped
its eyes with a dirty rag that it carried in its hand; after which it
held the rag over the umbrella-stand and wrung it out, as washerwomen
wring out clothes, and the dark drippings fell into the tray with a dull,
heavy splut.

My father whispered something to my mother, and she went out towards the
back; and, in a little while, we heard the stamping of hoofs--the angry
plunge of a spur-startled horse--the rhythmic throb of the long, straight
gallop, dying away into the distance.

My mother returned and spoke some reassuring words to the servants. My
father, having made fast the door and extinguished all but one or two of
the lights, had gone into a small room on the right of the hall; the
crouching figure, still mopping that moisture from its eyes, following
him. We could hear them talking there in low tones, my father
questioning, the other voice thick and interspersed with short panting
grunts.

We on the stairs huddled closer together, and, in the darkness, I felt my
mother's arm steal round me and encompass me, so that I was not afraid.
Then we waited, while the silence round our frightened whispers thickened
and grew heavy till the weight of it seemed to hurt us.

At length, out of its depths, there crept to our ears a faint murmur. It
gathered strength like the sound of the oncoming of a wave upon a stony
shore, until it broke in a Babel of vehement voices just outside. After
a few moments, the hubbub ceased, and there came a furious ringing--then
angry shouts demanding admittance.

Some of the women began to cry. My father came out into the hall,
closing the room door behind him, and ordered them to be quiet, so
sternly that they were stunned into silence. The furious ringing was
repeated; and, this time, threats mingled among the hoarse shouts. My
mother's arm tightened around me, and I could hear the beating of her
heart.

The voices