“What lies beyond here?” I demanded.
“About a quarter of mile of woods, sir, and then the lake.”
“Go ahead,” I ordered, “straight to the lake.”
I was soon stumbling through rough underbrush similar to that through which we had approached the house. Bates swung along confidently enough ahead of me, pausing occasionally to hold back the branches. I began to feel, as my rage abated, that I had set out on a foolish undertaking. I was utterly at sea as to the character of the grounds; I was following a man whom I had not seen until two hours before, and whom I began to suspect of all manner of designs upon me. It was wholly unlikely that the person who had fired into the windows would lurk about, and, moreover, the light of the lantern, the crack of the leaves and the breaking of the boughs advertised our approach loudly. I am, however, a person given to steadfastness in error, if nothing else, and I plunged along behind my guide with a grim determination to reach the margin of the lake, if for no other reason than to exercise my authority over the custodian of this strange estate.
A bush slapped me sharply and I stopped to rub the sting from my face.
“Are you hurt, sir?” asked Bates solicitously, turning with the lantern.
“Of course not,” I snapped. “I’m having the time of my life. Are there no paths in this jungle?”
“Not through here, sir. It was Mr. Glenarm’s idea not to disturb the wood at all. He was very fond of walking through the timber.”
“Not at night, I hope! Where are we now?”
“Quite near the lake, sir.”