I thought he was on his way to the library, and followed him, determined, if he went up the stair, not to take one step after him.

He turned, however, neither toward the library nor the stair, but to a little door that gave upon a grass-patch in a nook between two portions of the rambling old house.

I made haste to open it for him.

He stepped out into its creeper-covered porch, and stood looking at the rain, which fell like a huge thin cataract; I stood in the door behind him.

The second flash came, and was followed by a lengthened roll of more distant thunder.