By the time we reached our gate the storm was over, though the wind was still sweeping restlessly over the hills. A dog belonging to a neighbouring farmer jumped over the garden wall. He had evidently called in the hope of getting a chance to settle a long-standing score he had against my own innocent-looking animal, who was ever a terrible fighter! We paid no attention to the dog, however, but hurried up the path, only too thankful to see the lights of home, and glad that Eileen had forgotten to pull down the dark blinds. Nevertheless, I wondered that she did not open the door so soon as she heard the gate. I put my hand on the latch, but to my surprise the door was locked! I rattled the latch and knocked. The dog whined inside and gave impatient little short barks which always mean a summons to someone to open the door and let me in. But the door remained locked.
Then Eileen’s voice within—
“Are you quite by yourselves? Has the wolf gone?”
“Open the door at once, and don’t talk nonsense,” I said firmly, trying not to sound as irritated as I felt.
“Oh, but it isn’t nonsense. I’ve seen them out there! One was there just now. And I’m not going to risk my life by opening the door if he’s there still.”
Evidently our lives were unimportant! “If you don’t open the door this very instant,” I said, “I’ll get in through the window. You must be out of your senses, and you have always professed to be so brave!”
The key grated in the lock, and the door opened half an inch, while Eileen’s nose peeped at the crack, to make sure we were not the wolf. Then she explained, “If you’d been here for hours and hours, as I have”—(we had actually been gone an hour and a half, though I could understand the sudden storm, and our delay, had made her nervous)—“hearing those wolves outside a-howling and howling and gnashing their horrid fangs, you wouldn’t wonder I was afraid to open the door. I saw one skulking off just before you came in.”
I understood the situation immediately. “Eileen,” I said severely, “what have you been reading?”