"It is admirable work," repeated he, drawing back. "That mosaic
floor, especially, is done with an art and skill that I never saw
equalled."
There was something strange and altered in Middleton's tones, that
attracted the notice of Mr. Eldredge. Looking at him, he saw that he had
grown pale, and had a rather bewildered air.
"Is your friend ill?" said he. "He has not our English ruggedness of
look. He would have done better to take a sip of the cool tankard, and a
slice of the cold beef. He finds no such food and drink as that in his
own country, I warrant."
"His color has come back," responded Hammond, briefly. "He does not need
any refreshment, I think, except, perhaps, the open air."
In fact, Middleton, recovering himself, apologized to Mr. Hammond
[Eldredge?]; and as they had now seen nearly the whole of the house, the
two visitants took their leave, with many kindly offers on Mr. Eldredge's
part to permit the young man to view the cabinet whenever he wished. As
they went out of the house (it was by another door than that which gave
them entrance), Hammond laid his hand on Middleton's shoulder and pointed
to a stone on the threshold, on which he was about to set his foot. "Take
care!" said he. "It is the Bloody Footstep."
Middleton looked down and saw something, indeed, very like the shape of a
footprint, with a hue very like that of blood.
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