The moonless night; like a dark bird, had nested in the garden; the sighing of the lilac bushes was the only sound.

Then, dimly, just below him, on the steps of the front door, he saw a figure standing.
"Who is that ?" he called.
The figure did not move.
"Who are you ?" said Hilary again.
The figure raised its face, and by the gleam of his white beard Hilary knew that it was Mr.Stone.
"What is it, sir ?" he said.

"Can I do anything ?" "No," answered Mr.Stone.

"I am listening to the wind.

It has visited everyone to-night." And lifting his hand, he pointed out into the darkness..