"This is home!"
He drew her arm within his and hurried her up a long, graveled path,
under dripping, tossing trees.
The storm of wind and rain nearly beat the breath out of the girl's
body, and she was glad when the shelter of a great front porch was
gained.
"I hope you're not very wet, my little wife," said the man: "because I
don't know as there is a change of garments in this establishment that
will fit you. However, as you will retire directly, it doesn't so much
matter."
He knocked with his knuckles a thundering reveille that echoed and
re-echoed ghostily through the rumbling old house. In a moment there was
a shuffling of footsteps inside, a rattling of a chain, and the noisy
undoing of rusty bolts.
"Who's there?" asked a cracked old voice. "Is it the young master?"
"Yes, you old idiot! Didn't I send you word? Open the door at once, and
be hanged to you!"
A key turned gratingly in the ponderous lock--bolts and chains fell, and
the massive door swung back on creaky old hinges.
"Like an ancient castle in a story book," thought Mollie, in the midst
of her trouble.
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