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She knew she would encounter but few tortuous places. The last half-mile, however, was steep, rugged, and unfamiliar to her. She had ventured no nearer to his home than Renwood's deserted cottage, lying above and to the south of the road, almost at the base of the long hill on whose side Shaw had built his big home.
The storm, swerving with the capricious mountain winds, suddenly swept their refuge with sheets of water. Randolph Shaw threw the raincoats over his companion and both laughed hysterically at their plight, suddenly remembered. "We can't stay here," he shouted. "We can't go out into it," she cried. "Where are we?" "Renwood's," he called back. Their position was untenable.
Thoughts of robbers, tramps, wild beasts, assailed her with intermittent terrors, but all served to diminish the feeling of shyness that had been interfering with her determination. Past Renwood's cottage she sped, shuddering as she recognized the stone steps and path that ran up the hillside to the haunted house.
Farther up the hillside still gleamed the little light that was meant to keep Renwood's ghost from disturbing the slumbers of old man Grimes and his wife. She could not reach that light, that much she knew. Her feet were like hundredweights, her limbs almost devoid of power; Grimes' hut appeared to be a couple of miles away.
Corwith makes love to you and so does Odwell, and, hang it, they're both married. It's rotten mean of " "Their wives are accountable for their manners, not I. But, come; will you go to Renwood's with me?" "I'd rather talk to you in that nice little corner of the billiard-room, at home, if you " "But I don't need a brandy and soda. Oh!"
"I really could not have walked to Ridgely to-night, could I?" "I should say not." "And there was really nowhere else to come but here?" dubiously. "See that light over there up the mountain?" he asked, leading her to a window. "Old man Grimes and his wife live up there. They keep a light burning all night to scare Renwood's ghost away. By Jove, the storm will be upon us in a minute.
Soon he sat alone before the fire; she slept sound on the broad couch in the corner, a steamer rug across her knees. A contented smile curved his lips as he gazed reflectively into the flames. He was not thinking of Mrs. Renwood's amiable ghost. How long she had been asleep, Penelope did not know. She awoke with a start, her flesh creeping.
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