In the lull between the blasts of wind it was so very still that the sound of my footfalls upon the floor, the dropping of the charred wood upon the hearth, the tapping of the withered vines without the window, jarred like thunder.
Suddenly madam leaned forward in her chair.

"There is some one at the door," she said.
As she spoke, the latch rose and some one pushed heavily against the door.

I had drawn the bars across.

"Who is it ?" I demanded, going to it.
"It is Diccon, sir," replied a guarded voice outside.

"I beg of you, for the lady's sake, to let me speak to you." I opened the door, and he crossed the threshold.