As the morning wore on so the sunshine became stronger, till the cobbles in the little streets shone hard and bright in the glare.
At ten Westerham's glance was attracted by some bustle about the door of the inn, and he saw the fat landlady bowing and scraping on the white doorstep, and then out of the shadows into the sunshine came the girl he had come to find.
Dressed all in black and thickly veiled, Lady Kathleen came quickly out of the doorway and walked down the street.
Westerham, who had taken the precaution to previously settle his score, immediately rose and walked after her.
The street was so narrow and there were so many people about that he had to follow Kathleen pretty closely in order to avoid losing her. He noted with some surprise that she walked straight ahead, as though of prearranged purpose, never faltering and never so much as glancing to the right or to the left.
He followed her down the hill, and so into the space about the cathedral, where busy women were setting out their wares—poultry, pottery, vegetables and the like.
More than one head was turned to note the quick, silent passage of Lady Kathleen. Hers, indeed, was a physique which could not have escaped notice, no matter what its surroundings.
On the market-square, having a clearer view before him, Westerham slackened his pace and allowed Lady Kathleen to increase the distance between them.
Still she walked straight ahead, as one who follows an oft-trodden path and knows full well whither that path leads.