He should find Ethie there, he said.

She surely had returned from her visit by this time; he should see the lights from the windows shining out upon the park, just as he had seen them many other nights when hastening back to Ethie.

He would take the shortest route down that dark, narrow alley, and so gain a moment of time.

The alley was traversed at last, also the square, and he turned the corner of the street where stood the Stafford House.
Halting for an instant, he strained his eyes to see if he were mistaken, or was there no light in the window, no sign that Ethie was there.

There were lights below, and lights above, but the second floor was dark, the shutters closed, and all about them a look of silence and desertion, which quickened Richard's footsteps to a run.