I wondered if my society had been disagreeable or, at any rate, inopportune, and had caused her to cut short her walk.
As we repassed my house, I caught Mrs. Atkins peering apprehensively at it. I followed the direction of her eyes, but could see nothing unusual.
When I got back to my office, I found that Atkins had called during my absence; I was very sorry to have missed him, as he no doubt came to report what Dr. Hartley had said about his wife.
That night I was called out to see a patient, and returned home during the small hours of the morning. I was still some distance from my house when I distinctly saw the back door of the Rosemere open, and a muffled figure steal out. I was too far away to be able to distinguish any details. I could not even be sure whether the figure was that of a man or a woman. I hastened my steps as I saw it cross the street, but before I had come within reasonable distance of it, it had disappeared round the corner.
The next morning I was aroused at a very early hour by a vigorous ringing at my bell. Hurrying to the door, I was astonished to find Atkins there. He was white and trembling. I pulled him into the room and made him sit down.
“What is the matter?” I asked, as I went to the sideboard and poured out a stiff glass of brandy, which I handed him. “Drink that, and you’ll feel better,” I said.
He gulped it down at one swallow.
“My wife has disappeared.”
“Disappeared!” I repeated.