By three in the afternoon I was as unkempt as any tinker, my hair plastered over my eyes, and every fold of my coat running like a gutter.
Presently the time came for me to leave the road and take the short-cut over the moors; but in the deluge, where the eyes could see no more than a yard or two into a grey wall of rain, I began to misdoubt my knowledge of the way.

On the left I saw a stone dovecot and a cluster of trees about a gateway; so, knowing how few and remote were the dwellings on the moorland, I judged it wiser to seek guidance before I strayed too far.
The place was grown up with grass and sore neglected.

Weeds made a carpet on the avenue, and the dykes were broke by cattle at a dozen places.

Suddenly through the falling water there stood up the gaunt end of a house.

It was no cot or farm, but a proud mansion, though badly needing repair.