"I must look just a little closer," she exclaimed. "Do come with me,
Mr. Ducaine. I'm horribly afraid."
"Then don't go near him," I advised. "A dead man is surely not a pleasant spectacle for you. Come away, Miss Moyat."
But she had advanced to within a couple of yards of him. Then she stopped short, and a little exclamation escaped from her lips.
"Why, Mr. Ducaine," she cried out, "this is the very man who stopped me last night outside our house, and asked the way to your cottage."
CHAPTER IV
MISS MOYAT'S PROMISE
We stood looking at one another on the edge of the marsh. In the clear morning sunlight I had no chance of escape or subterfuge. There was terror in my face, and she could see it.
"You—you cannot be sure!" I exclaimed. "It may not be the same man."
"It is the same man," she answered confidently. "He stopped me and asked if I could direct him to your house. It was about half an hour after you had gone. He spoke very softly and almost like a foreigner. I told him exactly where your cottage was. Didn't he come to you?"
"No," I answered. "I have never seen him before in my life."