During the forenoon he saw that there was something on Ida's mind; that she was greatly troubled.
Perhaps the words he had said to her only a short time before had much to do with her indisposition. He felt that he ought to have a talk with Ida. If he were to reassure her that she could have everything her own way, she might feel much relieved.
A second time he started for her boudoir; but again he drew back. He could not tell what prompted him to do so.
"Such strange, contradictory emotions seem to possess me," he said. "I will go out into the grounds and smoke a cigar. That will quiet me a little, and afterward I will have a talk with Ida."
Eugene Mallard wandered about the grounds for half an hour or more. He heard a clock strike the hour of eight.
How dark and gloomy it was! There was no moon, but the stars shed a faint, glimmering light.
He had smoked a cigar; but still he paced aimlessly up and down the grounds, lost in thought.
He came to one of the garden benches. It looked so inviting that he threw himself down upon it.
How long he sat there he never knew. Presently he was disturbed by the sound of slow, cautious footsteps. It could not be one of the servants stealing through the grounds in that manner. It must be some poacher.