‘Come here, my darling,’ she said. ‘Put your shoes on. I want you to go down to the corner and meet Abner and give this to him.’
‘Isn’t it rather dark, mam?’ said Gladys, thrilled by the prospect of adventure. She shivered.
‘No, my darling. There’s a lovely moon, isn’t there, Mr Drew? Just wait at the bottom of the drive till he comes, or go a little way up the road. Let me put your coat on.’
She helped the child into her overcoat and kissed her. Gladys took the note. ‘Won’t our Abner be surprised?’ she said, as she went.
‘I’d best bide along with you, missus,’ said old Drew darkly.
‘I’d rather you went, Mr Drew,’ she replied. ‘I know you mean it kindly.’
‘Well, my dear, I’ll be going on up to the Pentre. Maybe I’ll meet Abner up the fields. Shall I send Mrs Mamble in to ’ee?’
‘No. Mrs Mamble’s out: gone to the shops in Lesswardine. I’d rather be alone when he comes. It was good of you to warn me.’
He left her, and she waited. Her brain followed the messenger down the avenue step by step. She realised that the most awful moment of her life was upon her. She wondered if she ought to pray. She could not pray. What right had she, a guilty woman, to call on Divine help? She must fight for herself. She looked at the clock. Barely two minutes had passed since she had looked before. Surely Abner could not be long.
Her strained ears heard steps in the distance. She peered out into the moonlight. Two dim figures were visible. Abner, in his obstinate folly, had seen her note and refused her warning. Even now there was time to stop him. She dared not call, for it struck her that George might well be coming up behind him. She stood, trembling with impatience, waiting for him to come within earshot. The figures of the man and the child became more distinct. His gait was unsteady but too fast for Gladys, who ran at his side. He carried her note unfolded. The paper showed white in the moonlight. They came toward her, and she saw that it was George. A cry came from her lips. He left the child behind him, stalked straight into the kitchen and flung his hat on the table. He was as pale as death; his cropped head shaped like a skull. The walk had partially sobered him.