Chapter VI.—The ConspiratorsThe chimes of the beautiful old clock in the lounge of Dunwich Hall had just tinkled the hour of eleven upon the night of the same day that Larose had made his startling announcement to Mr. Grant, when Margaret Advent, Herr Mitter's parlormaid, scraped lightly upon her master's studio door and a low voice bade her enter.
Margaret was certainly a very pretty girl and no one would have said she came of common stock. Built rather on the tall side, she had a supple and beautifully proportioned figure. Her profile was clean-cut and aristocratic, she had large grey eyes, a very pretty mouth, and a faultless complexion. Her hands were small and dainty.
She had no knowledge who her parents were, for one night, the night of Advent Sunday, nearly two and twenty years ag
