"Miss Innes," he said, stopping me as I was about to go to my room
up-stairs, "how are your nerves tonight?"
"I have none," I said happily. "With Halsey found, my troubles have
gone."
"I mean," he persisted, "do you feel as though you could go through
with something rather unusual?"
"The most unusual thing I can think of would be a peaceful night. But
if anything is going to occur, don't dare to let me miss it."
"Something is going to occur," he said. "And you're the only woman I
can think of that I can take along." He looked at his watch. "Don't
ask me any questions, Miss Innes. Put on heavy shoes, and some old
dark clothes, and make up your mind not to be surprised at anything."
Liddy was sleeping the sleep of the just when I went up-stairs, and I
hunted out my things cautiously. The detective was waiting in the
hall, and I was astonished to see Doctor Stewart with him.
They were talking confidentially together, but when I came down they
ceased. There were a few preparations to be made: the locks to be gone
over, Winters to be instructed as to renewed vigilance, and then, after
extinguishing the hall light, we crept, in the darkness, through the
front door, and into the night.
I asked no questions. I felt that they were doing me honor in making
me one of the party, and I would show them I could be as silent as
they. We went across the fields, passing through the woods that
reached almost to the ruins of the stable, going over stiles now and
then, and sometimes stepping over low fences. Once only somebody spoke,
and then it was an emphatic bit of profanity from Doctor Stewart when
he ran into a wire fence.
We were joined at the end of five minutes by another man, who fell into
step with the doctor silently. He carried something over his shoulder
which I could not make out. In this way we walked for perhaps twenty
minutes. I had lost all sense of direction: I merely stumbled along in
silence, allowing Mr. Jamieson to guide me this way or that as the path
demanded. I hardly know what I expected. Once, when through a
miscalculation I jumped a little short over a ditch and landed above my
shoe-tops in the water and ooze, I remember wondering if this were
really I, and if I had ever tasted life until that summer. I walked
along with the water sloshing in my boots, and I was actually cheerful.
I remember whispering to Mr. Jamieson that I had never seen the stars
so lovely, and that it was a mistake, when the Lord had made the night
so beautiful, to sleep through it!