It was then I remembered suddenly the looks of the men when they turned to take the brougham to the stables in the dark that morning.  They had not liked it, and the horses had not liked it.  I remembered that even in my anxiety about Roland I had heard them tearing along the avenue back to the stables, and had made a memorandum mentally that I must speak of it.  It seemed to me that the best thing I could do was to go to the stables now and make a few inquiries.  It is impossible to fathom the minds of rustics; there might be some devilry of practical joking, for anything I knew; or they might have some interest in getting up a bad reputation for the Brentwood avenue.  It was getting dark by the time I went out, and nobody who knows the country will need to be told how black is the darkness of a November night under high laurel-bushes and yew-trees.  I walked into the heart of the shrubberies two or three times, not seeing a step before me, till I came out upon the broader carriage-road, where the trees opened a little, and there was a faint gray glimmer of sky visible, under which the great limes and elms stood darkling like ghosts; but it grew black again as I approached the corner where the ruins lay.  Both eyes and ears were on the alert, as may be supposed; but I could see nothing in the absolute gloom, and, so far as I can recollect, I heard nothing.  Nevertheless there came a strong impression upon me that somebody was there.  It is a sensation which most people have felt.  I have seen when it has been strong enough to awake me out of sleep, the sense of some one looking at me.  I suppose my imagination had been affected by Roland’s story; and the mystery of the darkness is always full of suggestions.  I stamped my feet violently on the gravel to rouse myself, and called out sharply, “Who’s there?” Nobody answered, nor did I expect any one to answer, but the impression had been made.  I was so foolish that I did not like to look back, but went sideways, keeping an eye on the gloom behind.  It was with great relief that I spied the light in the stables, making a sort of oasis in the darkness.  I walked very quickly into the midst of that lighted and cheerful place, and thought the clank of the groom’s pail one of the pleasantest sounds I had ever heard.  The coachman was the head of this little colony, and it was to his house I went to pursue my investigations.  He was a native of the district, and had taken care of the place in the absence of the family for years; it was impossible but that he must know everything that was going on, and all the traditions of the place.  The men, I could see, eyed me anxiously when I thus appeared at such an hour among them, and followed me with their eyes to Jarvis’s house, where he lived alone with his old wife, their children being all married and out in the world.  Mrs. Jarvis met me with anxious questions.  How was the poor young gentleman?  But the others knew, I could see by their faces, that not even this was the foremost thing in my mind.