As yet the rain had not had time to penetrate the canopy of green leaves shutting out the grey sky, but the path along which Downing was hurrying Penelope was already strewn with branches, some of dangerous size, and, had he not held her strongly, more than once she would have slipped and fallen. He saw that their wisest course would be to return to the open ground they had left, but the knowledge that some kind of shelter lay before them, if they could only reach it safely, made him keep the thought to himself.
If—if indeed! For there came a sudden rending, as it were, of earth and water, an awful blinding flash; and then—in the interval between the lightning and the crash of thunder—one of the tall trees on the opposite side of the now rain-swept water fell with a heavy thud right across the pool, its green apex settling down but a few yards in front of the wayfarers.
With a wholly instinctive gesture Downing flung both arms round his companion, and in the face of each the other read the unspoken, anguished question, 'Is this, then, to be the end, the solution, of our strange romance, of our difficult problem?' But Mrs. Robinson shook her head, with a sudden gesture signifying no surrender, and they pushed blindly on, treading on and over the wood and leaves carpeting the way before them.
The avenue ended abruptly with a flight of steps cut in the steep green bank of what at first Downing took to be another deep pool, dark with weeds and studded with strange rocks. So vivid was this impression that he stayed his own and Penelope's feet, while his eyes sought for a way round to a curious building, not unlike the remains of an old mill, which he saw opposite, and which promised the looked-for shelter.
But gradually, as his eyes grew more accustomed to the twilight, he saw that what he had taken for a sheet of still water was a stretch of grass, smooth as a bowling-green, from which rose jagged pillars, and uncouth, green-draped ruins, portions of the foundations of the old abbey, while to the right, bordered by gaunt trees, a bare space surrounded by low walls showed the site of what had been a vast medieval church.
The two, standing there, were struck by the look of dreadful desolation presented by the scene, the more desolate, the more God-forsaken, by reason of the fantastic-looking house which stood the other side of the deep depression containing the abbey ruins. Silently, no longer arm in arm, they went down the green steps, and made their way through what had been the cells and spacious chambers, the guest-rooms and the broad refectory, of the great monastery.
III
Mrs. Robinson and Downing had sheltered but a moment in the porch of the old-fashioned house, which doubtless incorporated some portion of the monastic buildings, when the heavy, nail-studded door suddenly opened, revealing a roomy vaulted hall.
An old man, evidently a self-respecting and respected butler, stood peering out into the semi-darkness, and as he did so invited them rather crossly to come in.
Mrs. Robinson stepped back into the wind and rain, for she felt in no mood to confront a stranger. But the man repeated with some asperity: 'You are, please, to come in. Those are my mistress's orders. Now, don't be keeping me in this draught!'