he was kindly welcome, or that he was very
happy, but he said neither, only looking steadily at her. So she simply
turned to go away.

She walked as far as the middle of the next field, not sorry to be out
of this man's reach; and rather glad that, when she was within it, she
was not a young girl, unprotected. That shows the impression he had
given her. Also that his steady look was concentrating to a glare as she
lost sight of his face, and that she would be glad when she was sure she
had seen the last of it. She walked a little quicker as soon as she
thought her doing so would attract no notice.

"Hi--missus!" She quickened her pace as the words--a hoarse call--caught
her up. She even hoped she might be mistaken--had made a false
interpretation of some entirely different sound; not the cawing of one
of those rooks--that was against reason. But it might have been a dog's
bark at a distance, warped by imagination. She had known that to happen.
If so, it would come again. She stood and waited quietly.

It came again, distinctly. "Hi--missus!" No dog's bark that, but that
man's voice, to a certainty, nearer. Then again "Hi--missus!" nearer
still--almost close--and the sound of his feet. A halting,
dot-and-go-one pace; not lame, but irregular.

She was a courageous old woman, was old Granny Marrable. But the place
was a very lonely one, and.... Well--she did not mind about her money!
It was her treasured old gold watch, that her first husband gave her,
that she was thinking of....

There!--what a fool she was, to get into such a taking when, ten to one,
she had only dropped something, and he was running after her to restore
it. She faced about, and looked full at him.

"Ah!" said he. "Take a good look! You've seen _me_ afore. No hurry--easy
does it!" His voice showed such entire conviction, and at the same time
such a complete freedom from anything threatening or aggressive, that
all her fear left her at once. It was a mistake--nothing worse!

But was she absolutely sure, without her glasses? All she could see was
that the face was that of a hard man, close-cropped and close-shaved,
square and firm in the jaw. Not an ugly face, but certainly not an
attractive one. "I think, sir," she said conciliatorily, "you have
mistook me for someone else. I am sure."

"Maybe, mother," said he, "you'll know me through your glasses. Got 'em
on you?... Ah--that's right! Fish 'em out of your pocket! Now!" As the
old lady fitted on