Isbel was careful to keep her eye on the spot where she had last observed her. No doubt there would be an entrance there into the grounds.
Upon coming up to it she found her anticipation was realised. A small iron wicket-gate opened into the park. It had been swung to, but was unlatched. A gravel walk, barely wide enough for two people side by side, led through the grass and under trees towards what could now distinctly be seen to be the house. It was slightly uphill. Isbel passed in without hesitation.
After walking quickly for about five minutes, she again saw the woman. She was as far ahead as ever. She had reached the foot of the steep sloping lawn under the house, and now turned sharply to the left, which would evidently bring her to the north-east side of the building-though how she could be so certain of her direction on this, her first visit to the grounds, was more than Isbel could say. The house itself was by this time quite close. Standing high above her, in the grey mist, it looked a huge, weird erection, the more especially as it was a mere silhouette. The part which faced her must be the back-the French windows of the dining-room, the bedrooms of the top storey, etc…But the time that Isbel had gained of the same spot, beneath the lawn, the woman had again disappeared. She also turned to the left.
The path curved, and in another minute or two she was in full view of the north-east front. The lawn, which was still steeper on this side, towered above her in that dime visibility like a veritable mountain slope, and crowning it was the great house, vast, shadowy, and grim. She could just make out the gable underneath which was the window of the East Room.
While she paused to gaze up, she became aware that the woman was standing close beside her. Then her doubts were remove. It was Mrs. Richborough!…there was something disquieting and peculiar in her appearance, however…Perhaps it was the way she was standing. Her hands were free, and they crossed, not over her breast but over the lower part of her body, with straightened elbows. She was also very erect and still. Her face appeared white and smiling, under the decorative veil she wore-but perhaps it was illusion, the light wsa so poor. Isbel felt a strange uneasiness.
"They told me at the hotel that-something happened to you."
"Oh, yes-I am dead," came the whispering voice. "I died last night."
And then Isbel realised that her eyes ere closed, that this being standing opposite to her, with the dress and bearing of a fashionable woman, did not see the world as other people!…
Her tongue was paralysed, and she shook from head to foot.
The apparition vanished.
Chapter XIX THE FLASH OF DAY
The mist came on thicker. It was so wetting that her clothes and face streamed with moisture, though she was too distressed to think of seeking shelter. The upper lawn appeared as a dark shadow against the paler grey of the sky, while the house itself was out of sight.
As she stood trying to overcome her agitation, something began to affect her ears. It was not exactly a sound, but was more like a heavy pulsing. Her head throbbed with it, till she thought she should go mad. Then it ceased abruptly.
Five minutes later, the figure of a man loomed up out of the mist and approached her. It wsa Judge. Isbel pressed her fur tightly to her throat and turned away.
"So it is you!"
When he replied, there wsa a suppressed exuberance in his voice which immediately arrested her attention by its unusualness.
"Yes, it is I."
"Then you told me an untruth? You have not gone to London?"
"I called here on my way back."
"Well, I got your letter. Perhaps you are wondering why I have followed you here, after having received my dismissal. I don't want anything from you, and I don't know myself why I came. Mrs. Richborough led me here. I know now that she's dead, but I have seen her and spoken to her, for all that."
Judge seemed not to remark her statement, for he asked another question:
"Did you hear my playing?"
"Your playing?"
"Yes."…He eyed her curiously. "Your manner is very extraordinary. Surely you recognise where you are? Are you awake or asleep?"
"I'm quite awake and I fully realise where I am, Mr. Judge. I'm trespassing in your grounds-but it won't be for long. I'm going home now."
"Haven't you been to the house?"
"Your house? Hardly, I think."
He drew a step closer, and for the first time she observed that he was not wearing a hat.
"Tell me where you think you are?"
"I have already told you. It is your manner which is very singular, Mr. Judge. Are you quite well?".
"Listen! I am talking with you here, and I am where we wished to be yesterday. Does it not seem so to you, too?"
"I don't understand you. Where did we wish to be yesterday?"
He gave her another searching look. "So you really are seeing differently. And you have not been up that staircase to-day?"
"I haven't set foot inside your house, I tell you. Have you lost your senses?"
"No; but I have been up that staircase to-day, and I have not yet come down again."
"Oh, my God!" said Isbel quietly.
"I was wretched, and could not keep away from the house. It contained all my memories. The stairs were there; I climbed them. Passing straight into that other room, I got through the window, and succeeded in reaching the ground without accident, though it was not easy…"
She stared at him with frightened eyes. "And where are you now?"
"I am standing beside you in the open country, in full sunshine-and it is spring, not autumn."
"You cannot believe it. You must see for yourself that it isn't so. Feel me-I'm wet with the fine rain."
But he came no nearer.
"The man is asleep, and the sight of his instrument put an idea into my head. I could not see you, but I felt you were somewhere in the neighbourhood-so I played to you…"
"What man?"
"The man we saw from the window yesterday."
There was an embarrassed silence.
"But this is awful!" said Isbel…"You must be attempting to mystify me, Mr. Judge. If not…"
"No, I am speaking the truth, Isbel; and I am quite rational."
The blood came to her face. "You have not yet acquired the right to call me by that name, Mr, Judge."
"You don't understand-but matters can be set right."
"Where are you now going?"
He had started to move off, but stopped at her question.
"I shall play again."
"But this is sheer insanity."
"You did not think so last evening, when we heard that music in the hall."
She said nothing.
"Let me go," proceeded Judge quietly. "I ask you only to reserve your judgement for five minutes, and in the meantime to wait here. Should I fail to open your eyes by then, I give you full permission to think of me what you will. Please wait."
Isbel stared after him with a puzzled frown, as he made his way up and across the long, wet grass. He had hardly taken ten steps before his form merged into the grey of the mist and was swallowed up. She heard nothing but the dripping of the sodden trees.
While waiting, with a fast-beating heart, for the outcome of this strange business, she experienced the same sensations in her ears as before. It was an inaudible throbbing, too marked to be disregarded, but so unassociated that she was unable even to decide if its cause were internal or external. After continuing for a minute or two, it left off as suddenly as it had started. Nearly at the same time she was surprised to see the day rapidly brightening. The sky grew lighter, and the mists thinner; she could look further away each moment. In less than five minutes after Judge's departure the sun itself had come through. The blue sky appeared, the ground vapours dispersed, and the whole country became visible. The transition ws so abrupt that she scarcely knew how to take it; almost in a flash, to the radiance and heat of an early summer day. A wind sprang up, and long before she had accommodated herself to the change there was not a wisp of cloud in the sky. She loosened her fur wrap.