"I am a stranger in these parts," Renwick went on, "and no mischief maker. This story interests me. I should like to know——" He paused again as the old man leaned forward toward him, and laid his skinny forefinger along Renwick's knee.
"It is the abode of the devil," he whispered, and then crossed himself again.
"Ah—something mysterious——"
"It is not a matter which we talk about in this house. We are poor, hard-working people who fear God. But strange things are happening up yonder night after night. Here in the valley, we no longer go near by day—nor even look."
"Ah, I see. Then the place has long been unoccupied?"
The old man was silent, but the woman, gathering confidence, took up the story.
"It was always a place of mystery—even in the days of Baron Neudeck, who was an evil man. The servants were strangers to our people and spoke not at all. They never came into the valley."
"And they did not come for food—for milk, eggs, butter?"
"Szolnok farm was above the Schloss upon the mountain side. They had what they needed."
"Ah, I understand. And since the death of the Baron?"