Several people passed, but William's nerve had gone. He dared not emerge from his damp and gloomy refuge. At last he heard the sound of many cheerful voices, as if seven or eight people were coming together through the churchyard. His spirits rose. He would tell them his plight. Seven or eight people all together would not be afraid of him.... He rose from behind his tombstone and with eight wild yells eight young women made for the horizon. All but one. She tripped over a stone and crouched with her head on her hands where she fell. With a thrill of joy William recognised his mother's housemaid. His troubles were at an end. She would fetch him his overcoat.
"Ellen,"—he began.
"OO-ow-ow-ow!" yelled Ellen.
With a shriek more piercing than he had yet heard, Ellen fled from William's sight.
******
"I don't know where William is," said Mrs. Brown to her husband. "He wasn't in to tea."
"Don't worry yourself about him unduly," said her husband. "There was a rumour rife in the village as I came from the station to the effect that William had been seen walking in the direction of the village over an hour ago wearing a suit of clothes of abnormal size."
Mrs. Brown sat down suddenly.
"Abnormal size? But he was wearing his ordinary suit at lunch."
"I can't explain it," said her husband. "I merely repeat the rumour."