“There!” said Campanula, as she too rose. “He’s gone away again down the path towards the gate.”
“I’ll just follow him,” said Mac, “and see what he’s like.”
He bade Campanula good night and departed.
The gate was closed, and there was no one on the garden path; no one on the hill path either, he found as he descended it slowly, peering through the gloom before him.
“It’s dom queer!” muttered Mac to himself as he reached the street. “I’d have staked my life she was talking to herself.”
He felt vaguely uneasy, and thought of returning. Then he decided not. The path looked gloomy and mysterious viewed from down below, and its descent without meeting any one had already given him a slight attack of the “creeps.”
CHAPTER XVI
THE PHILOSOPHY OF EVIL