He looked at it closely, and made sure of deep marks.  He stood for a moment undecided what to do.  He disliked to arouse Doctor Gordon.  He was afraid of awakening Mrs. Ewing, if he ventured into the upper part of the house.  Then he thought of the man Aaron who slept in a room over the stable.  He reentered the house, locked the front door, went softly into the doctor’s study, and out of the door which was near the stable.  Then he made a hard snowball, and threw it at Aaron’s window.  The window opened directly, and Aaron’s head appeared.  James could see, even in the dim light, and presumably just awakened from sleep, the rotary motion of his jaws.  He was probably not chewing anything, simply moving his mouth from force of habit.  “Hullo!” said Aaron, “that you Doctor Gordon?”

“No, it is I,” replied James.  “Put on something as quick as you can, and come down here.  Something is wrong.”

Aaron’s head disappeared.  In an incredibly short space of time the stable door was unlocked and slid cautiously back, and Aaron stood there, huddled into his clothes.  “What’s up?” he asked.

“I don’t know.  Have you got a lantern in the stable?”

“Yep.”

“Light it quick, then, and come along with me.”

Aaron obeyed.  “Anybody sick,” he asked, coming alongside with the flashing lantern.  He threw a cloth over it so as to prevent the rays shining into the house windows.  “I don’t want to frighten her,” he said, and James knew that he meant Mrs. Ewing.  “She’s awful nervous,” said Aaron.  Then he said again, “What’s up?”

“I saw a man’s face looking into one of my windows,” replied James.

Aaron gave a low whistle.  “Somebody wanted the doc?” he inquired.

“No,” replied James shortly, “it was not.”

“Must have been.”

“No, it was not.”

“Must have been,” repeated Aaron, chewing.

“I tell you it was not.  I knew—­” James stopped.  He suddenly wondered how much he ought to tell the man, how much Doctor Gordon had told him.

Aaron chewed imperturbably, but a sly look came into his face.  “I have eyes, and they see, and ears, and they hear,” he said, after an odd Scriptural fashion, “but don’t you tell me nothin’, Doctor Elliot.  Either I take what I get from the fountain-head, or I makes my own conclusions that I can’t help.  Don’t you tell me nothin’.  S’pose we look an’ see ef there’s footprints that show anythin’.”

Aaron flashed the lantern, all the time carefully shading it from the house windows, over the walk which led to the front door and the piazza.  James followed him.  “Well,” said Aaron, “there’s been somebody here, but, with snow like this, it might have been a monkey or a rhinoceros or an alligator.  You can’t make nothin’ of them tracks.  But they do go out to the road, and turn toward Stanbridge.”

“Suppose we—­” began James.  He was about to suggest following the prints, when he remembered Doctor Gordon’s injunction to the contrary.