A light flashed full into her face; a tiny scream, instantly checked, broke from her. She stood still and levelled the gun.
A cool, faintly mocking voice spoke: "Whither away, Miss Brown?" it said.
Her pistol-hand fell to her side; she drew a long, sobbing breath. "You!" she gasped, dizzy with relief. "It's only - you!"
"That," said Mr. Amberley strolling towards her, "is not particularly complimentary. You seem to be in a hurry."
She put her hand out, clasping the sleeve of his coat; there was something comforting about its very roughness. "Someone following me," she said. "Someone following me."
He took her hand in a strong clasp; she was aware, through her jumbled emotions, that she was no longer afraid. She held Mr. Amberley's hand gratefully and followed the beam of his torch as it swung round.
Then a sharp exclamation rose to her lips. The torch had lit up a face for one moment, a face that shone pale in the bright light and disappeared instantly behind a bush.
"Who is that man?" she gasped. "Over there - didn't you see? He was watching us. Oh, let's get away!"
"By all means," agreed Amberley. "It's not really much of a night for a country walk."
"Did you see?" she insisted. "A man by that bush. Who was he? He was following me. I heard him."