As she struggled with the lattice, she had a
sense of pulling it against some detaining hand. It swung slowly round
and the figure of a man slid with it side-long, and stood behind it
looking in. The figure seemed to lean forward out of the darkness; its
face, pressed close against the panes, was vivid, as if seen in a
strong daylight. She saw the flame of its red moustache and hair, the
flicker of its faun-like tilted smile. Its eyes were fixed piercingly
on hers.
It stood so for the space of six heart-beats. The window slipped from
her hand and swung back on its hinges. The cloud was heaved from the
edges of the world, and face and figure were wiped out by the great
grey sweep of the dawn. Lucia (strangely as it seemed to her
afterwards) was not startled by the apparition, but by the aspect of
the world it had appeared in. She stood motionless, as if afraid of
waking her own fear; she caught the lattice, drew it towards her and
deliberately secured it by the hasp. She turned with relief from the
terrible twilight of the windows to the darkness of the room. She
crossed it with slow soft footsteps, lest she should give her terror
the signal to pursue.
There was a slight stir on the hearth as a mound of ashes sank and
broke asunder, opening its dull red heart.
Lucia turned in the direction of the sound, came forward and saw that
she was not alone.
Stretched on the rug in front of the fireplace with his feet towards
her lay Mr.
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