For he knew that those lighted windows would not have shone so peacefully had any red horrific tragedy been there enacted.
He was yet in time.
Chapter Fifteen.
The Midnight Foe.
“Why, it’s Renshaw!” cried Mrs Selwood, who, hearing the sound of hoofs mingling with the barking of the dogs, had come to the door. “We didn’t expect you till to-morrow. Well, you’re just in time. A few minutes more and we should all have gone to bed. Call Windvogel to take your horse, and come in.”
“I’ll let him run; he’s about done up,” he answered, removing saddle, bridle, and headstall, and turning the animal adrift.
“Has your business fallen through?” she asked, as he followed her into the passage and closed the door.
“It has had to stand over. Come in here, Hilda”—leading the way into an empty room. “I have something to tell you. No—never mind the light. The fewer lights shown the better.”