“A man’s step!” echoed Hugh, with a look of surprise.
“A man’s step!” re-echoed Nettie, her eyes wide open with astonishment.
“Yes! A man’s heavy step crunching through the snow. There, listen! there it is again. It seems to be coming up the hill toward the house—listen!”
They all listened.
Crunch, crunch, crunch came the heavy, regular, monotonous tramp.
And it is impossible to convey the effect of that regular, heavy sound breaking upon the profound stillness and solitude of night on that sea-girt isle.
“In the name of Heaven, who can it be?” exclaimed Miss Joe, as nearly frightened as ever she was in her life.
Crunch, crunch, crunch came the step, nearing the door.
“I am going to see,” exclaimed Hugh, seizing up a pine knot, lighting it at the fire, and making for the door.
Miss Joe could scarcely repress a scream.