ny being joined by the
hollow-turner and the man who kept the cider-house as they went along.

They explored the precincts of the village, and in a short time lighted
upon the man-trap. Its discovery simply added an item of fact without
helping their conjectures; but Melbury's indefinite alarm was greatly
increased when, holding a candle to the ground, he saw in the teeth of
the instrument some frayings from Grace's clothing. No intelligence of
any kind was gained till they met a woodman of Delborough, who said
that he had seen a lady answering to the description her father gave of
Grace, walking through the wood on a gentleman's arm in the direction
of Sherton.

"Was he clutching her tight?" said Melbury.

"Well--rather," said the man.

"Did she walk lame?"

"Well, 'tis true her head hung over towards him a bit."

Creedle groaned tragically.

Melbury, not suspecting the presence of Fitzpiers, coupled this account
with the man-trap and the scream; he could not understand what it all
meant; but the sinister event of the trap made him follow on.
Accordingly, they bore away towards the town, shouting as they went,
and in due course emerged upon the highway.

Nearing Sherton-Abbas, the previous information was confirmed by other
strollers, though the gentleman's supporting arm had disappeared from
these later accounts. At last they were so near Sherton that Melbury
informed his faithful followers that he did not wish to drag them
farther at so late an hour, since he could go on alone and inquire if
the woman who had been seen were really Grace. But they would not
leave him alone in his anxiety, and trudged onward till the lamplight
from the town began to illuminate their fronts. At the entrance to the
High Street they got fresh scent of the pursued, but coupled with the
new condition that the lady in the costume described had been going up
the street alone.

"Faith!--I believe she's mesmerized, or walking in her sleep," said
Melbury.

However, the identity of this woman with Grace was by no means certain;
but they plodded along the street. Percombe, the hair-dresser, who
had despoiled Marty of her tresses, was standing at his door, and they
duly put inquiries to him.

"Ah--how's Little Hintock folk by now?" he said, before replying.
"Never have I been over there since one winter night some three year
ago--and then I lost myself finding it. How can ye live in such a
one-eyed place? Great Hintock is bad