The Lone Inn: A Mystery

by Fergus Hume

Copyright, 1895, by
THE CASSELL PUBLISHING CO.

All rights reserved.

THE MERSHON COMPANY PRESS,

RAHWAY, N. J.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
[I.]	THE ADVENTURE AT THE INN.
[II.]	THE SEQUEL TO THE ADVENTURE AT THE INN.
[III.]	FELIX OR FRANCIS?
[IV.]	OLIVIA'S EVIDENCE.
[V.]	AN ASTOUNDING DISCOVERY.
[VI.]	THE MAN IN PARIS.
[VII.]	LINKS IN THE CHAIN OF EVIDENCE.
[VIII.]	A CLEW TO THE MYSTERY.
[IX.]	ANOTHER SURPRISE.
[X.]	A WOMAN SCORNED.
[XI.]	TRANSFORMATION.
[XII.]	BACK FROM THE GRAVE.
[XIII.]	PERPLEXITY.
[XIV.]	THE HUNTING OF MAN.
[XV.]	WHAT REALLY HAPPENED AT THE FEN INN.

CHAPTER I.

[THE ADVENTURE AT THE INN.]

If there be aught in presentiments I was well warned by that first glimpse of the inn. The monstrous bulk of gables, sloping roofs, and lean chimneys, hunched blackly against the sky, would have scared a bolder spirit than mine. All day I had walked under blue sky, between green hedgerows, with light heart and whistling lip. Confronted in the twilight by so sinister a scene I felt qualmish. Ragged clouds dropped their fringes over sullen western red, around spread the salt marshes, evil in their desolation, and I with chilled blood stared at the lonely mansion dominating the outlook. Here, thought I, an adventure awaits me. The hour, the house, the scene, hint at romance, and that of the strangest.

So much were my spirits dashed by these ominous environments, that it was in my mind to walk the further ten miles and shelter for the night at Marshminster. Yet some fate compelled my unwilling feet toward that inhospitable door, and almost before I knew my own mind I was knocking loudly. It opened while my hand was still raised for the final rap, and a handsome woman presented herself to my astonished eyes. What beauty did among the tombs I know not, yet there she smiled. Though handsome, she was not a lady, and lacked the undefinable stamp of birth. At the same time she was above the commonality. Not a lady, not a servant; but something between the two. Her appearance confirmed the promise of romance.

"I have walked from Eastbury," said I, cap in hand, "and wish to put up here for the night."