"Is anybody there, please?" she called.
The answer came at once. "Yes," it said.
"Who is it?" she asked again, and in answer to her question, the night-walker loomed into her view and stood before her.
She rose to her feet with a little breathless laugh, for she recognized him.
"Oh, it 's you," she exclaimed. "Mr. Kamis, isn't it? But what are you doing here at this time of night?"
It was not light enough to see his face; she had recognized him by the figure and attitude; and she was glad. She was aware then that she rather dreaded the negro face of him.
"What are you doing, rather?" he asked. "Does anybody know you 're out here like this? Is it part of some silly treatment, or what?"
"I 'm waiting for Mrs. Jakes," said Margaret. "She 's coming with a lantern in a minute or two and you 'll have to go. It's all right, though; I shan't take any harm."
"I hope not." He was plainly dissatisfied, and it was very strange to catch the professional restraint in his voice. "Your being here—if I may ask—hasn't got anything to do with a very drunk man lying in the road over there?"
"You 've seen him, then?" asked Margaret. "It is just drunkenness, of course?"