"
"Oh? And I fancy I'm not at all _whom_ you imagined me to be."
"Heavens! Am I ejecting an innocent bystander? You _are_ Lady
Bazelhurst?"
"I am Penelope Drake. But"--she added quickly--"I _am_ an enemy. I am
Lord Bazelhurst's sister."
"You--you don't mean it?"
"Are you disappointed? I'm sorry."
"I am staggered and--a bit skeptical. There is no resemblance."
"I _am_ a bit taller," she admitted carefully. "It isn't dreadfully
immodest, is it, for one to hold converse with her captor? I am in
your power, you see."
"On the contrary, it is quite the thing. The heroine always converses
with the villain in books. She tells him what she thinks of him."
"But this isn't a book and I'm not a heroine. I am the adventuress.
Will you permit me to explain my presence on your land?"
"No excuse is necessary. You were caught red-handed and you don't have
to say anything to incriminate yourself further."
"But it is scarcely a hundred feet to our line. In a very few minutes
I shall be hurled relentlessly from your land and may never have
another chance to tell why I dared to venture over here. You see, you
have a haunted house on your land and I--" She hesitated.
"I see. The old Renwood cottage on the hill. Been deserted for years.
Renwood brought his wife up here in the mountains long ago and
murdered her. She comes back occasionally, they say; mysterious noises
and lights and all that. Well?"
"Well, I'm very much interested in spooks. In spite of the feud I rode
over here for a peep at the house.
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