Would her
quest be facilitated or irretrievably hindered by her presence in
the judge's house? She had that yet to learn. Meanwhile, there was
one thing more to be accomplished. She set about it that evening.
Veiled, but in black now, she went into town. Getting down at the
corner of Colburn Avenue and Perry Street, she walked a short
distance on Perry, then rang the bell of an attractive-looking
house of moderate dimensions. Being admitted, she asked to see Mr.
Black, and for an hour sat in close conversation with him. Then
she took a trolley-car which carried her into the suburbs. When
she alighted, it was unusually late for a woman to be out alone;
but she had very little physical fear, and walked on steadily
enough for a block or two till she came to a corner, where a high
fence loomed forbiddingly between her and a house so dark that it
was impossible to distinguish between its chimneys and the
encompassing trees whose swaying tops could be heard swishing
about uneasily in the keen night air. An eerie accompaniment, this
latter, to the beating of Deborah's heart already throbbing with
anticipation and keyed to an unusual pitch by her own daring.
Was she quite alone in the seemingly quiet street? She could hear
no one, see no one. A lamp burned in front of Miss Weeks' small
house, but the road it illumined (I speak of the one running down
to the ravine) showed only darkened houses.
She had left the corner and was passing the gate of the Ostrander
homestead, when she heard, coming from some distant point within,
a low and peculiar sound which held her immovable for a moment,
then sent her on shuddering.
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