The station-master was waiting, bowing and saluting, and outside was a motor-car with big head-lights.
Next minute we were sliding through dark woods where the snow lay far deeper than in the north.

There was a mild frost in the air, and the tyres slipped and skidded at the corners.
We hadn't far to go.

We climbed a little hill and on the top of it stopped at the door of a big black castle.

It looked enormous in the winter night, with not a light showing anywhere on its front.

The door was opened by an old fellow who took a long time about it and got well cursed for his slowness.