CHAPTER II.
Blunderbore Hall, the seat of James Rawjester, Esq., was encompassed by dark pines and funereal hemlocks on all sides.

The wind sang weirdly in the turrets and moaned through the long-drawn avenues of the park.
As I approached the house I saw several mysterious figures flit before the windows, and a yell of demoniac laughter answered my summons at the bell.

While I strove to repress my gloomy forebodings, the housekeeper, a timid, scared-looking old woman, showed me into the library.
I entered, overcome with conflicting emotions.

I was dressed in a narrow gown of dark serge, trimmed with black bugles.

A thick green shawl was pinned across my breast.