Tales of Terror and Mystery

           Itwaslow—solowthatitwasonlyinthatstillnightairthatwecouldhaveheardit,but,hushedasitwas,therewasnomistakingitsfemininetimbre.Itspokehurriedly,gaspinglyforafewsentences,andthenwassilent—apiteous,breathless,imploringsortofvoice.MissWithertonandIstoodforaninstantstaringateachother.Thenwewalkedquicklyinthedirectionofthehall-door.

           "Itcamethroughthewindow,"Isaid.

           "Wemustnotplaythepartofeavesdroppers,"sheanswered."Wemustforgetthatwehaveeverheardit."

           Therewasanabsenceofsurpriseinhermannerwhichsuggestedanewideatome.

           "Youhavehearditbefore,"Icried.

           "Icouldnothelpit.Myownroomishigheruponthesameturret.Ithashappenedfrequently."

           "Whocanthewomanbe?"

           "Ihavenoidea.Ihadrathernotdiscussit."

           Hervoicewasenoughtoshowmewhatshethought.Butgrantingthatouremployerledadoubleanddubiouslife,whocouldshebe,thismysteriouswomanwhokepthimcompanyintheoldtower?Iknewfrommyowninspectionhowbleakandbarearoomitwas.Shecertainlydidnotlivethere.Butinthatcasewheredidshecomefrom?Itcouldnotbeanyoneofthehousehold.TheywereallunderthevigilanteyesofMrs.Stevens.Thevisitormustcomefromwithout.Buthow?

           AndthensuddenlyIrememberedhowancientthisbuildingwas,andhowprobablethatsomemediaevalpassageexistedinit.Thereishardlyanoldcastlewithoutone.Themysteriousroomwasthebasementoftheturret,sothatiftherewereanythingofthesortitwouldopenthroughthefloor.Therewerenumerouscottagesintheimmediatevicinity.