ancient house to its foundations. I sat listening, somehow very
much depressed. There was no sound. It was not entirely dark
outside--the long twilight--and the frugal Walters had not lighted
the hall lamps. Somebody was coming down the stairs very quietly
--but their creaking betrayed him. I waited for him to pass
through the shaft of light that poured from the door open at my back.
At that moment Fate intervened in the shape of a breeze through my
windows, the door banged shut, and a heavy man rushed by me in the
darkness and ran down the stairs. I knew he was heavy, because the
passageway was narrow and he had to push me aside to get by. I
heard him swear beneath his breath.

Quickly I went to a hall window at the far end that looked out on
the street. But the front door did not open; no one came out. I
was puzzled for a second then I reentered my room and hurried to my
balcony. I could make out the dim figure of a man running through
the garden at the rear--that garden of which I have so often spoken.
He did not try to open the gate; he climbed it, and so disappeared
from sight into the alley.

For a moment I considered. These were odd actions, surely; but was
it my place to interfere? I remembered the cold stare in the eyes
of Captain Fraser-Freer when I presented that letter. I saw him
standing motionless in his murky study, as amiable as a statue.
Would he welcome an intrusion from me now?

Finally I made up my mind to forget these things and went down to
find Walters. He and his wife were eating their dinner in the
basement. I told him what had happened. He said he had let no
visitor in to see the captain, and was inclined to view my