I thought Nap would like a run down the road,—­and I could always make Tinker keep the peace,—­so I went into the stable-yard in search of him.  He was evidently there, for I could hear him barking excitedly.  The next moment a young workman came out of the empty coach-house, and walked quickly to the gate, followed closely by Nap, jumping and fawning on him.

‘Down, down, good dog!’ I heard him say, and then I whistled back Nap, who came reluctantly, and with some difficulty I contrived to shut him up in the stable-yard.  There seemed no man about the premises.  Then I hurried down the road in the direction of the village:  my heart was beating fast, my limbs trembled under me.  I had caught sight of a perfect profile and a golden-brown moustache as the young workman went out of the gate, and I knew it was the face of Eric Hamilton.

My one thought was that I must follow him, that on no account must I lose sight of him.  As I closed the gate I could see him in the distance, just turning the corner by the Man and Plough; he was walking very quickly in the direction of the station.  I quickened my steps, breaking into a run now and then, and soon had the satisfaction of lessening the distance between us; my last run had brought me within a hundred yards of him, and slackened my pace, and began to look the matter in the face.

I remembered that the London train would be due in another quarter of an hour; no doubt that was why he was walking so fast.  I must keep near him when he took his ticket.  I had no fear of his recognising me; he had only seen me twice, without my bonnet, and now I wore a hat that shaded my face, and my plain gray gown was sufficiently unlike the dress I had worn at Hyde Park Gate.  I had a sudden qualm as the thought darted into my mind that he might possibly have a return-ticket; but I should know if he got into the Victoria train, and I determined on taking a ticket for myself.

I had a couple of sovereigns and a little loose silver in my purse.  I had assured myself of this fact as I walked down the hill.  As soon as the young workman had entered the booking-office, I followed him closely, and to my great relief heard him ask for a third-class ticket for Victoria.  When he had made way for me I took the same for myself, and then, as I had seven minutes to spare, I went into the telegraph-office and dashed off a message to Gladys.

’Called to town on important business; may be detained to-night.  Will write if necessary.’

As I gave in the form I could hear the signal for the up train, and had only time to reach the platform when the Victoria train came in.

The young workman got into an empty compartment, and I followed and placed myself at the other end.  I had no wish to attract his notice; the ill success of my former attempt had frightened me, and I felt I dared not address him, for fear he should leave the train at the next station.  Some workmen had got in and were talking noisily among themselves.  I did not feel that the opportunity would he propitious.