road. Hehad passedthrough twosmallvillagesExcelsiorand Navarre and if theroadside signs were right inanother fewmiles he would becoming intoMontfort. He hoped that someonein Montfort could set him right again. Theroad wasacounty highwaycrookedand narrowand bearinglittletraffic. It twistedthroughtheruggedheadlands thatran downto thecoast flanked by birch and evergreens and rarely out ofreach of the mutedthunder of surf pounding on giant boulders that lay tumbled on the shore. Thecar wasclimbinga longsteep hillwhen hefirst sawthe housebetween thecoast androad. It wasasprawling pile ofbrick and stoneflaunting massivetwin chimneys at eitherend of it sitedinfront of agrove ofancient birchand set sohigh upon theland thatit seemed tofloat against thesky. He slowed the car pulled over to the roadside andstopped to have a better look at it. A semicircular brick-paved driveway curved up to the entrance of the house. A fewhuge oak trees grew on the well-kept lawnand in their shade stoodgraceful stone benchesthat had the look of never being used. There was it seemed to Latimer a pleasantly haunted look to the place - asense ofprivacy ofolden dignity awithdrawal from theworld. On thefront lawn marring it desecrating it stood alarge planted sign: FOR RENT OR SALE. See Campbells Realty - Half Mile Down the RoadAnd an arrow pointing to showwhich way down the road. Latimer made no moveto continue down the road. He sat quietly in the carlookingatthe house.Theseahe thoughtwasjustbeyond fromasecond-story window at the back one could probably seeit. Ithad beenwordof asimilar retreatthathad senthimseeking outWyalusing