quite sure, as if
Vere herself had told me everything. Soon after I had got clear of the
village I heard a sound of wheels behind me. I stood up against the
hedge, and in a minute or two a fly passed me going slowly. I saw the
driver's face. It wasn't a man from Inley. Evidently the fly had come
from a distance. It was splashed with mud, and the horse looked tired.
I followed it till it came to the turning just below Miss Bassett's
cottage, where there's a narrow lane going to Charfield through the
woods. It went a little way down this lane, and stopped. I waited at the
turning. I could see the light from the lamps shining on the wet road,
and in the circle of light the driver's breath. He bent down, and I saw
him looking at a big silver watch. Then he put it back. But he didn't
drive on. I knew what he was waiting for. Vere was going with--with
Glynd. That was more than I had ever thought of, that she would go. I
put my hand into my pocket, took out my revolver, and went on till I was
close to the red cottage. By this time the rain had stopped. I came up
to within a few yards of the Abbey gates, stood for a moment, and then
returned till I was at the wicket of Miss Bassett's garden. It's bounded
by a yew hedge, beyond which there is a path shaded by mulberry-trees.
The hedge is low. The path is dark. It was a blackguardly thing to do,
but I thought of nothing except myself, my wrong, and how I was to wipe
it out. I opened the wicket, came into the path, and stood there under
the mulberry-trees behind the hedge. Here I was in cover, and could see
the road. I held my revolver in my hand, and waited. It never struck me
that Miss Bassett might be up. I saw no light in the cottage, and I had
a sort of idea that people like her went to bed at about eight. While
I was standing there listening I felt something rub against my legs. It
made me start. Then I heard a little low noise. I looked down, and
there was a great cat holding up its tail and purring. Its pleasure was
horrible to me. I pushed it away with my foot, but it came back, bending
down its head, arching its back, and pressing against me. I was thinking
what to do to get rid of it when I heard a shrill, husky voice call out:

"'Johnny--John-nee!'

"It was Miss Bassett. I held my breath, and pushed away the cat.

"'Johnny, Johnny--John-nee!' went the voice again.

"The cat wouldn't leave me. God knows why it wished to stay. I was
determined to get rid of it, so I p