"Some day, I suppose, it will fall into the sea?"
"Probably, but not in our time. Here we are. Just allow me to hitch the reins to the gatepost."
He jumped lightly out of the dogcart.
"Are there no servants?"
"Only an old woman and her daughter. They are busy at this hour."
Philip understood that a meal might be in preparation. He hoped not; personally, he could not eat there.
Dr. Williams pressed the latch of an old-fashioned door. He whispered:
"Be as quiet as possible. He may be asleep; if he is, it will not be for long, poor fellow."
Indeed the doctor himself betrayed some slight agitation now. He perspired somewhat, and his hand shook.
Anson followed him into a somber apartment, crudely furnished, half dining room, half kitchen. Though the light of a June evening was clear enough outside, the interior of the house was gloomy in the extreme. There were some dark curtains shrouding a doorway.