"
It was not till a week later, when Sylvia had exhausted the
attractions of the woodland walks round Yessney, that she ventured
on a tour of inspection of the farm buildings. A farmyard
suggested in her mind a scene of cheerful bustle, with churns and
flails and smiling dairymaids, and teams of horses drinking knee-
deep in duck-crowded ponds. As she wandered among the gaunt grey
buildings of Yessney manor farm her first impression was one of
crushing stillness and desolation, as though she had happened on
some lone deserted homestead long given over to owls and cobwebs;
then came a sense of furtive watchful hostility, the same shadow
of unseen things that seemed to lurk in the wooded combes and
coppices. From behind heavy doors and shuttered windows came the
restless stamp of hoof or rasp of chain halter, and at times a
muffled bellow from some stalled beast. From a distant corner a
shaggy dog watched her with intent unfriendly eyes; as she drew
near it slipped quietly into its kennel, and slipped out again as
noiselessly when she had passed by. A few hens, questing for food
under a rick, stole away under a gate at her approach. Sylvia
felt that if she had come across any human beings in this
wilderness of barn and byre they would have fled wraith-like from
her gaze.
Pages:
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141