“I bowed and he left the room.  A minute afterward I heard voices; his and the old woman’s, and, I fancied, a third.  Before I had finished my inspection of the room he returned, and regarded me with the same strange look I had noticed before.

“‘There will be three of us at dinner,’ he said, at length.  ’We two and my son.’

“I bowed again, and secretly hoped that that look didn’t run in the family.

“‘I suppose you don’t mind dining in the dark,’ he said, abruptly.

“‘Not at all,’ I replied, hiding my surprise as well as I could, ’but really I’m afraid I’m intruding.  If you’ll allow me—­’

“He waved his huge gaunt hands.  ’We’re not going to lose you now we’ve got you,’ he said, with a dry laugh.  ’It’s seldom we have company, and now we’ve got you we’ll keep you.  My son’s eyes are bad, and he can’t stand the light.  Ah, here is Anne.’

“As he spoke the old woman entered, and, eyeing me stealthily, began to lay the cloth, while my host, taking a chair the other side of the hearth, sat looking silently into the fire.  The table set, the old woman brought in a pair of fowls ready carved in a dish, and placing three chairs, left the room.  The old man hesitated a moment, and then, rising from his chair, placed a large screen in front of the fire and slowly extinguished the candles.

“‘Blind man’s holiday,’ he said, with clumsy jocosity, and groping his way to the door opened it.  Somebody came back into the room with him, and in a slow, uncertain fashion took a seat at the table, and the strangest voice I have ever heard broke a silence which was fast becoming oppressive.

“‘A cold night,’ it said slowly.

“I replied in the affirmative, and light or no light, fell to with an appetite which had only been sharpened by the snack in the middle of the day.  It was somewhat difficult eating in the dark, and it was evident from the behaviour of my invisible companions that they were as unused to dining under such circumstances as I was.  We ate in silence until the old woman blundered into the room with some sweets and put them with a crash upon the table.

“‘Are you a stranger about here?’ inquired the curious voice again.

“I replied in the affirmative, and murmured something about my luck in stumbling upon such a good dinner.

“‘Stumbling is a very good word for it,’ said the voice grimly.  ’You have forgotten the port, father.’

“‘So I have,’ said the old man, rising.  ’It’s a bottle of the “Celebrated” to-day; I will get it myself.’

“He felt his way to the door, and closing it behind him, left me alone with my unseen neighbour.  There was something so strange about the whole business that I must confess to more than a slight feeling of uneasiness.

“My host seemed to be absent a long time.  I heard the man opposite lay down his fork and spoon, and half fancied I could see a pair of wild eyes shining through the gloom like a cat’s.