He could not have come in, he could not possibly be there, and yet Gwen had a curious impression that the room was not empty. But empty it must be. She pushed the door quietly open and peeped in. The fire was burning on the hearth in solemn silence, a cavernous red. There was nobody in the room, and yet, as Gwen stole in and passed the projecting book-case opposite the door, against which she had stumbled that evening of evenings, she felt that she was not alone. It was a strange unpleasant feeling. There she was standing in the full space of that shadowy room. Books, books were everywhere—books that seemed to her keeping secrets in their pages and purposely not saying anything. The room was too long, too full of dead things—like books—too full of shadows. The heavy curtains looked black, the desk, its chair standing with its back to the fire—had a look of expecting to be occupied and waiting. She would have liked to have thrown the letter on to the desk instead of having to cross the few feet that separated her from the desk. The silence of the room was alarming! Something seemed to be ready to jump at her! Was something in the room? Gwen made a dash for the desk and threw down the letter. As she did so, a sudden thrill passed up her spine and stiffened her hair. She was not alone! There was somebody in the room, a shadow, an outline, at the far end of the room against one of the curtains—a man, a strange figure, looking straight at her! He was standing, bending forward but motionless against the curtain, and staring with eyes that had no life in them—at her!
Gwen gave a piercing scream and rushed blindly for the door. She dashed against the projecting book-case, striking her head with some violence. She tried to cry for help, but could not, the room swam in her vision. She struck out her arms to shield herself, and as she did so she felt rather than heard some one coming to her rescue, some one who flashed on the lights—and she flung herself into protecting arms.
"It's all right, it's all right," said the Warden. "What made you cry out? Don't be frightened, child!" and he half led, half carried her towards a chair near the fire.
"No, no!" sobbed Gwen, shrilly. "Not here—no, take me away—away from——"
"From what?" asked Lady Dashwood quietly, at her elbow. "What is the matter, Gwen? You mustn't scream for nothing—what has frightened you?"
Gwen groaned aloud and hid her face in the Warden's arm.
"Something in this room has frightened you?" he asked.
Gwen sobbed assent.
"There is nothing in this room," said Lady Dashwood. "Put her on the chair, Jim. She must tell us what it is she is afraid of. Come, Gwen!"
Although Gwendolen submitted to the commanding voice of Lady Dashwood and allowed herself to be placed in the chair, she still grasped the Warden's arm and hid her face in it.