into space.

"What?" said Ned.

"A blank fog!"

XXXV

IN THE GARDEN

It was a few minutes after half past eight when Miss Peterkin chanced to
meet her friend Mr. Carrington in the entrance hall of the Kings Arms.
He was evidently going out, and she noticed he was rather differently
habited from usual, wearing now a long, light top coat of a very dark
grey hue, and a dark coloured felt hat. They were not quite so becoming
as his ordinary garb, she thought, but then Mr. Carrington looked the
gentleman in anything.

"Are you going to desert us to-night, Mr. Carrington?" asked the
manageress.

"I have a letter or two to post," said he, "they are an excuse for a
stroll. I want a breath of fresh air."

He closed the glass door of the hotel behind him and stood for a moment
on the pavement in the little circle of radiance thrown by the light of
the hall. Mr. Carrington's leisurely movements undoubtedly played no
small part in the unsuspecting confidence which he inspired. Out of the
light he turned, strolling easily, down the long stretch of black
pavement with its few checkers of lamplight here and there, and the
empty, silent street of the little country town at his side. It was a
very dark, moonless night, and the air was almost quite still. Looking
upward, he could see a rare star or two twinkle, but all the rest of the
Heavens were under cloud. Judging from his contented expression the
night seemed to please him.

He passed the post office, but curiously enough omitted to drop any
letters into the box. The breath of fresh air seemed, in fact, to be his
sole preoccupation. Moving with a slightly quickened stride, but still
easily, he turned out of that street into another even quieter and
darker, and in a short time he was nearing the lights of the station. He
gave these a wide birth, however, and presently was strolling up a very
secluded road, with a few villas and gardens upon the one side, and
black space on the other. There for a moment he stopped and transferred
something from the pocket of his inner coat into the pocket of his top
coat. It was a small compact article, and a ray of light from a
lamp-post behind him gleamed for an instant upon a circular metal
orifice at one end of it.

Before he moved on, he searched the darkness intently, before him and
behind, but saw no sign of any other passenger. And then he turned the
rim of his dark felt hat down over his face, stepped out briskly for