the best course to make off at once. She remembered now
that she had noticed a tiny hole no bigger than a nail-hole in the
door, and had found that upon the other side it was just above a row
of books in the shelves somewhat lower in height than the rest, and
was evidently intended to enable the occupant of the chamber to obtain
a view of the library, and see whether that room was occupied. She
applied her eye to it at once, and saw that all was dark. Concealing
the lantern again beneath her coat, she drew back the bolts gently and
stepped out. Then she went to one of the windows, took down the bell,
carefully unbarred the shutters, threw up the window and stepped out.

She sped cross the garden, down the drive, and through the gate, and
then hurried at the top of her speed toward the village. She had gone
about half the distance when she heard a horse's footsteps
approaching. The road ran between two high hedges and there was no
place for concealment. She therefore walked along by the edge of the
road close to the hedge, hoping that the horseman would pass without
noticing her. His eyes, however, were too much accustomed to the
darkness. He reined in his horse when he came to her, and a moment
later the light of a small lantern fell on her face.

"Who are you?" a voice asked, "and where are you going?"

"I am going to the vicarage," she said, "to see Mr. Withers."

"A likely story that," he said. "What is this? A woman with a man's
hat and coat! There is something wrong here," and leaning down he
caught her by the collar. She saw by the light of his lantern that he
was a mounted patrol.

"It is quite true, constable," she said. "I have put these things on
in a hurry, but I am going to see Mr. Withers on a question of life
and death. Take me to the vicarage, and if when you get there you find
my story is not true you can lock me up if you like."

The constable was puzzled. The voice was apparently that of a lady,
and yet her attire, and her presence abroad at two o'clock in the
morning, was suspicious in the extreme. He paused irresolute.

"I don't like to disturb the vicar at this time of night," he said. "I
will take you to the village lockup and go up to him in the morning."

"Please don't do that," she said. "I am a lady, and have a very good
reason for what I am doing. I can promise you that Mr. Withers will
not be angry at being called up; indeed he will be greatly pleased.
Come, constable," she went on,