At the end of an hour, alarmed perhaps by some sound within the bed's shadow, or the feel of the hand in hers, she suddenly pushed the curtain back, and, catching up the candle, stooped over the sick man.
His lids were closed, as if he slept still; but he was quite dead.
'Lizabeth stood for a while bending over him, smoothed the bedclothes straight, and quietly left the room.

It was a law of the house to doff boots and shoes at the foot of the stairs, and her stocking'd feet scarcely raised a creak from the solid timbers.

The staircase led straight down into the kitchen.

Here a fire was blazing cheerfully, and as she descended she felt its comfort after the dismal room above.
Nevertheless, the sense of being alone in the house with a dead man, and more than a mile from any living soul, was disquieting.

In truth, there was room for uneasiness.