All this time Harriet remained in her room, pacing up and down the floor, pausing at every sound to listen at the window. Perched on the window-sill, Martin Luther mewed insistently, his head pressed against the leaded glass. Why did he mew like that?
Suddenly it seemed to Harriet that Martin Luther had been mewing for an infinite period of time. She opened the window, and the cat, half way through, hesitated, as if considering whether it was really advisable to go out, after all. Then, sliding softly downward to the roof of the conservatory he disappeared round the angle of the house.
Where had the cat gone? Harriet had an inherent aversion to cats, her toleration of Martin Luther being a strong testimonial to her love for Horatio, but she had moments of believing, as he did, that cats possess a fearful knowledge not shared by men. Why had Martin Luther acted so strangely? Where had he gone?
It was terribly quiet now, and, as the curate's wife turned away from the window the darkness of the room, deepened by contrast, filled her with sudden panic. She hurried from the house, and her groping flight was like the progress of a nightmare.
Out of doors the dew-cooled air pressed Harriet's forehead like the hand of a nurse. The velvet blending of darkness and light, silence and sound, was infinitely soothing. To and fro she paced the darkening lawn, each time venturing a little further. Behind the lodge it was quite black under the cedars. Out in the lane the shadows were terrifying.
The hours passed.
Some one was coming. Harriet listened fearfully, leaning back against the steep bank among the pungent ferns, her heart beating painfully. As the steps came nearer and she recognized Lionel, her relief from the terror of a strange man turned to despair. Horatio was not with him.
"Lionel, is that you?"
At the sudden apparition of Harriet Lionel stopped short, and, turning at the same instant, almost lost his balance. A small, dark object fell to the ground, something he had been carrying under his arm. Harriet clutched his wrist.
"What's that?"