Among them was
a couple of girls who had but one thought, as was evinced by their
hurried whispers. "If it looks like this in the daytime, what must
it be at night!" To which came the quick retort: "I've heard that
the judge walks here. Imagine it under the moon!"
But whatever the mysteries of the place, a greater one awaited
them beyond, and presently realising this, they burst with one
accord through the second gate into the mass of greenery, which,
either from neglect or intention, masked this side of the
Ostrander homestead.
Never before had they beheld so lawless a growth or a house so
completely lost amid vines and shrubbery. So unchecked had been
the spread of verdure from base to chimney, that the impression
made by the indistinguishable mass was one of studied secrecy and
concealment. Not a window remained in view, and had it not been
for some chance glimmers here and there where some small,
unguarded portion of the enshrouded panes caught and reflected the
sunbeams, they could not have told where they were located in
these once well-known walls.
Two solemn fir trees, which were all that remained of an old-time
and famous group, kept guard over the untended lawn, adding their
suggestion of age and brooding melancholy to the air of desolation
infecting the whole place. One might be approaching a tomb for all
token that appeared of human presence. Even sound was lacking. It
was like a painted scene--a dream of human extinction.
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