The road, however, was deep in mud, and the rain fell in a steady swish.

Not a soul was to be seen, but he needed to make no inquiries, for he knew whither his father had gone as certainly as though he had seen him.
The iron side gate of the avenue was half open, and Robert stumbled his way up the gravelled drive amid the dripping fir-trees.

What could his father's intention be when he reached the Hall?
Was it merely that he wished to spy and prowl, or did he intend to call up the master and enter into some discussion as to his wrongs?
Or was it possible that some blacker and more sinister design lay beneath his strange doings?
Robert thought suddenly of the razor-strop, and gasped with horror.

What had the old man been doing with that?
He quickened his pace to a run, and hurried on until he found himself at the door of the Hall.
Thank God! all was quiet there.

He stood by the big silent door and listened intently.