ditch to recover his hat. "It's well for
you you're a woman," he said, standing scowling at her bareheaded in the
fast-darkening light.

Miss Gwilt glanced sidelong down the onward vista of the road, and saw,
through the gathering obscurity, the solitary figure of a man rapidly
advancing toward her. Some women would have noticed the approach of a
stranger at that hour and in that lonely place with a certain anxiety.
Miss Gwilt was too confident in her own powers of persuasion not to
count on the man's assistance beforehand, whoever he might be, _because_
he was a man. She looked back at the spy with redoubled confidence
in herself, and measured him contemptuously from head to foot for the
second time.

"I wonder whether I'm strong enough to throw you after your hat?" she
said. "I'll take a turn and consider it."

She sauntered on a few steps toward the figure advancing along the road.
The spy followed her close. "Try it," he said, brutally. "You're a fine
woman; you're welcome to put your arms round me if you like." As the
words escaped him, he too saw the stranger for the first time. He drew
back a step and waited. Miss Gwilt, on her side, advanced a step and
waited, too.

The stranger came on, with the lithe, light step of a practiced walker,
swinging a stick in his hand and carrying a knapsack on his shoulders.
A few paces nearer, and his face became visible. He was a dark man,
his black hair was powdered with dust, and his black eyes were looking
steadfastly forward along the road before him.

Miss Gwilt advanced with the first signs of agitation she had shown yet.
"Is it possible?" she said, softly. "Can it really be you?"

It was Midwinter, on his way back to Thorpe Ambrose, after his fortnight
among the Yorkshire moors.

He stopped and looked at her, in breathless surprise. The image of the
woman had been in his thoughts, at the moment when the woman herself
spoke to him. "Miss Gwilt!" he exclaimed, and mechanically held out his
hand.

She took it, and pressed it gently. "I should have been glad to see you
at any time," she said. "You don't know how glad I am to see you now.
May I trouble you to speak to that man? He has been following me, and
annoying me all the way from the town."

Midwinter stepped past her without uttering a word. Faint as the light
was, the spy saw what was coming in his face, and, turning instantly,
leaped the ditch by the road-side. Before Midwinter could follow, Miss
Gwilt's