This was evidently the means of
water supply to the dweller or dwellers in the cottage.
A light footstep was heard descending from the higher slopes of
the hillside. Indistinct in the pathway appeared a moving female
shape, who advanced and knocked timidly at the door. No answer
being returned the knock was repeated, with the same result, and
it was then repeated a third time. This also was unsuccessful.
From one of the only two windows on the ground floor which were
not boarded up came rays of light, no shutter or curtain obscuring
the room from the eyes of a passer on the outside. So few walked
that way after nightfall that any such means to secure secrecy
were probably deemed unnecessary.
The inequality of the rays falling upon the trees outside told
that the light had its origin in a flickering fire only. The
visitor, after the third knocking, stepped a little to the left in
order to gain a view of the interior, and threw back the hood from
her face. The dancing yellow sheen revealed the fair and anxious
countenance of Elfride.
Inside the house this firelight was enough to illumine the room
distinctly, and to show that the furniture of the cottage was
superior to what might have been expected from so unpromising an
exterior. It also showed to Elfride that the room was empty.
Beyond the light quiver and flap of the flames nothing moved or
was audible therein.
She turned the handle and entered, throwing off the cloak which
enveloped her, under which she appeared without hat or bonnet, and
in the sort of half-toilette country people ordinarily dine in.
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