s in sight: the road was behind me, passing the front of the
cottage, and my bedroom looked out that way. I had some writing and
reading to do, and I had not long finished breakfast before I settled
down to it, and heard the maid "doing out" the bedroom as usual,
accompanied every now and then by a slight mew from the cat, who (also
as usual) was watching her at work. These mews meant nothing in
particular, I may say; they were only intended to be met by an
encouraging remark, such as "There you are, then, pussy," or "Don't get
in my way, now," or "All in good time." Finally I heard "Come along
then, and let's see what we've got for you downstairs," and the door was
shut. I mention this because of what happened about a quarter of an hour
later.

There was suddenly a fearful crash in the bedroom, a fall, a breaking
of glass and crockery and snapping of wood, and then, fainter, sobbings
and moans of pain. I started up.

"Goodness!" I thought, "she must have been dusting that heavy shelf high
up on the wall with all the china on it, and the whole thing has given
way. She must be badly hurt! But why doesn't her mistress come rushing
upstairs? and what was that rasping noise just beside me?"

I looked at my suit-case, which lay on the table just inside the open
window. Across the new smooth top of it there were three deep scratches
running towards the window, which had not been there before. I moved it
to the other side of me and sat down. There had been an attempt to decoy
me out of the room, and it had failed. Certainly there would be more.

I waited; but everything was quiet in the house: no more noise from the
bedroom and no one moving about, upstairs or downstairs; nothing but
the pump clanking in the scullery. I turned to my work again.

Half an hour must have gone by, and, though on the look-out, I was not
fidgety. Then I was aware of a confused noise from the field outside.

"Help! help! Keep off, you brute! Help, you there!" as well as I could
make out, again and again. Towards the far end of the field, which was a
pretty large one, a poor old man was trying to get to a gate in the
hedge at a staggering run, and striking now and then with his stick at a
great deer-hound which was leaping up at him with hollow barks. It
seemed as if nothing but the promptest dash to the spot could save him;
it seemed, too, as if he had caught sight of me at the window, for he
beckoned. How strange the cries sounded! It was as if