out of
temper; I'm degraded in my own estimation--I have let Rosanna Spearman
puzzle me."

When we got back, the servants were at supper. The first person we saw
in the outer yard was the policeman whom Superintendent Seegrave had
left at the Sergeant's disposal. The Sergeant asked if Rosanna Spearman
had returned. Yes. When? Nearly an hour since. What had she done? She
had gone up-stairs to take off her bonnet and cloak--and she was now at
supper quietly with the rest.

Without making any remark, Sergeant Cuff walked on, sinking lower and
lower in his own estimation, to the back of the house. Missing the
entrance in the dark, he went on (in spite of my calling to him) till
he was stopped by a wicket-gate which led into the garden. When I joined
him to bring him back by the right way, I found that he was looking up
attentively at one particular window, on the bed-room floor, at the back
of the house.

Looking up, in my turn, I discovered that the object of his
contemplation was the window of Miss Rachel's room, and that lights were
passing backwards and forwards there as if something unusual was going
on.

"Isn't that Miss Verinder's room?" asked Sergeant Cuff.

I replied that it was, and invited him to go in with me to supper. The
Sergeant remained in his place, and said something about enjoying the
smell of the garden at night. I left him to his enjoyment. Just as I
was turning in at the door, I heard "The Last Rose of Summer" at the
wicket-gate. Sergeant Cuff had made another discovery! And my young
lady's window was at the bottom of it this time!

The latter reflection took me back again to the Sergeant, with a polite
intimation that I could not find it in my heart to leave him by himself.
"Is there anything you don't understand up there?" I added, pointing to
Miss Rachel's window.

Judging by his voice, Sergeant Cuff had suddenly risen again to the
right place in his own estimation. "You are great people for betting in
Yorkshire, are you not?" he asked.

"Well?" I said. "Suppose we are?"

"If I was a Yorkshireman," proceeded the Sergeant, taking my arm, "I
would lay you an even sovereign, Mr. Betteredge, that your young lady
has suddenly resolved to leave the house. If I won on that event, I
should offer to lay another sovereign, that the idea has occurred to her
within the last hour." The first of the Sergeant's guesses startled me.
The second mixed itself up somehow in my head with the report we had