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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"


The stairs above as below were covered with thick carpet: any light
human foot might pass without a sound; only haste would murmur the
secret to the troubled air.
He turned, replaced the packet, and closed the bureau. If there was
any one in the house, he must know it, and who could tell what might
follow! It was the merest ghost of a sound he had heard, but he must
go after it! Some intruder might be using the earl's house for his
own purposes!
Going softly up, he paused at the top of the second stair, and
looked around him. An iron-clenched door stood nearly opposite the
head of it; and at the farther end of a long passage, on whose sides
were several closed doors, was one partly open. From that direction
came the sound of a little movement, and then of low voices--one
surely that of a woman! It flashed upon him that this must be the
trysting-place of Eppy and Forgue. Fearing discovery before he
should have gathered his wits, he stepped quietly across the passage
to the door opposite, opened it, not without a little noise, and
went in.
It was a strange-looking chamber he had entered--that, doubtless,
once occupied by the ogre--The Reid Etin. Even in the bewilderment
of the moment, the tale he had just heard was so present to him that
he cast his eyes around, and noted several things to confirm the
conclusion. But the next instant came from below what sounded like a
thundering knock at the street door--a single knock, loud and
fierce--possibly a mere runaway's knock.


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