About fifty yards farther on my left was Braster Grange.  It stood a little way back from the road.  Its gardens were enclosed by a thin storm-bent hedge, just thick enough to be a screen from the road.  The entrance was along a lane which branched off here from the main road, and led on to the higher marshes, and thence on to the road from Braster village to Rowchester and my cottage.  Straight on, the road which I was following led into Braster, but the lane to the left round past the Grange saved me fully half a mile.  In an ordinary way I should never have hesitated for a moment as to my route.  I knew every inch of the lane, and though it was rough walking, there were no creeks or obstacles of any sort to be reckoned with.  And yet, as I neared the corner, I came to a full stop.  As I stood there in the road I felt my heart beating, I seemed possessed by a curious nerve failure.  My breath came quickly.  I felt my heart thumping against my side.  I stood still and listened.  Down on the shingles I could hear the sea come thundering in with a loud increasing roar, dying monotonously away at regular intervals.  I could hear the harsh grinding of the pebbles, the backward swirl of long waves thrown back from the land.  I heard the wind come booming across the waste lands, rustling and creaking amongst the few stunted trees in the grounds of Braster Grange.  Of slighter sounds there seemed to be none.  The village ahead was dark and silent, the side of the house fronting the road was black and desolate.  It was a lonely spot, a lonely hour.  Yet as I stood there shivering with nameless apprehensions, I felt absolutely certain that I was confronted by some hidden danger.

In a moment or two, I am thankful to say, my courage returned.  I struck a match and lit a cigar, one of a handful which Ray had forced upon me.  Then I crossed stealthily to the other side of the road, and felt for the hedge.  I pricked my hands badly, but after feeling about for some moments I was able to cut for myself a reasonably thick stick.  With this in my right hand, and the dispatch-box under my left arm I proceeded on my way.

I walked warily, and when I had turned into the lane which passed the entrance to Braster Grange I walked in the middle of it instead of skirting the wall which enclosed the grounds.  I passed the entrance gates, and had only about twenty yards farther to go before I emerged upon the open marshland.  Here the darkness was almost impenetrable, for the lane narrowed.  The hedge on the left was ten or twelve feet high, and on the right were two long barns.  I clasped my stick tightly, and walked almost stealthily.  I felt that if I could come safely to the end of these barn buildings I could afford to laugh at my fears.