There was a main gateway of
lichen-studded stone, each side pillar surmounted by mouldering
heraldic emblems; but besides this central carriage drive
I observed several points where there were gaps in the hedge
and paths leading through them. The house was invisible from
the road, but the surroundings all spoke of gloom and decay.
The heath was covered with golden patches of flowering gorse,
gleaming magnificently in the light of the bright spring sunshine.
Behind one of these clumps I took up my position, so as to command
both the gateway of the Hall and a long stretch of the road upon
either side. It had been deserted when I left it,
but now I saw a cyclist riding down it from the opposite
direction to that in which I had come. He was clad in a dark
suit, and I saw that he had a black beard. On reaching the end
of the Charlington grounds he sprang from his machine and led it
through a gap in the hedge, disappearing from my view.
A quarter of an hour passed and then a second cyclist appeared.
This time it was the young lady coming from the station.
I saw her look about her as she came to the Charlington hedge.
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