As I paused, the man spoke; in exactly the cultivated tone I had expected, and with a mellow accent as unmistakably Southern as the house he inhabited.
“Rather, you must pardon me for not answering your knock more promptly. I live in a very retired way, and am not usually expecting visitors. At first I thought you were a mere curiosity-seeker. Then when you knocked again I started to answer, but I am not well and have to move very slowly. Spinal neuritis – very troublesome case.
“But as for your getting to town before dark – it’s plain you can’t do that. The road you are on – for I suppose you came from the gate – isn’t the best or shortest way. What you must do is to take your first left after you leave the gate – that is, the first real road to your left. There are three or four cart paths you can ignore, but you can’t mistake the real road because of the extra large willow tree on the right just opposite it. Then when you’ve turned, keep on past two roads and turn to the right along the third. After that—“
“Please wait a moment! How can I follow all these clues in pitch darkness, without ever having been near here before, and with only an indifferent pair of headlights to tell me what is and what isn’t a road? Besides, I think it’s going to storm pretty soon, and my car is an open one. It looks as if I were in a bad fix if I want to get to Cape Girardeau tonight. The fact is, I don’t think I’d better try to make it. I don’t like to impose burdens, or anything like that – but in view of the circumstances, do you suppose you could put me up for the night? I won’t be any trouble – no meals or anything. Just let me have a corner to sleep in till daylight, and I’m all right. I can leave the car in the road where it is – a bit of wet weather won’t hurt it if worst comes to worst.”
As I made my sudden request I could see the old man’s face lose its former expression of quiet resignation and take on an odd, surprised look.
“Sleep – here?”
He seemed so astonished at my request that I repeated it.
“Yes, why not? I assure you I won’t be any trouble. What else can I do? I’m a stranger hereabouts, these roads are a labyrinth in the dark, and I’ll wager it’ll be raining torrents outside of an hour—“
This time it my host’s turn to interrupt, and as he did so I could feel a peculiar quality in his deep, musical voice.