“‘Johnny—John-nee!’
“It was Miss Bassett. I held my breath, and pushed away the cat.
“‘Johnny, Johnny—John-nee!’ went the voice again.
“The cat wouldn’t leave me. God knows why it wished to stay. I was determined to get rid of it, so I put the revolver down on the path, picked the cat up in my arms, and dropped it over the hedge into the road. Just as I had caught up the revolver again I was confronted by Miss Bassett. She had come in slippers up the path in the dark to look for her cat.”
I uttered a slight exclamation.
Inley went on: “She had a handkerchief tied over her cap and under her chin, and a small lantern in her hands, on which she wore black mittens. I can see her now. We stood there on the path for a minute staring at each other without a word. The light from the lantern flickered over the revolver, and I saw Miss Bassett look down at it.”
He stopped, poured out a glass of water, and drank it off like a man who has been running.
“Didn’t she show surprise—fear?” I asked.
“Not a bit. Women are so extraordinary, even old women who’ve never been in touch with life, that I’m certain now she understood directly her eyes fell on the revolver.”
“What did she do?”