Now it chanced that on this afternoon I was hard put to it to escape to my tryst, for my master, the physician, was ailing, and sent me to visit the sick for him, carrying them their medicines.  At the last, however, between four and five o’clock, I fled, asking no leave.  Taking the Norwich road I ran for a mile and more till I had passed the Manor House and the church turn, and drew near to Ditchingham Park.  Then I dropped my pace to a walk, for I did not wish to come before Lily heated and disordered, but rather looking my best, to which end I had put on my Sunday garments.  Now as I went down the little hill in the road that runs past the park, I saw a man on horseback who looked first at the bridle-path, that at this spot turns off to the right, then back across the common lands towards the Vineyard Hills and the Waveney, and then along the road as though he did not know which way to turn.  I was quick to notice things—­though at this moment my mind was not at its swiftest, being set on other matters, and chiefly as to how I should tell my tale to Lily—­and I saw at once that this man was not of our country.

He was very tall and noble-looking, dressed in rich garments of velvet adorned by a gold chain that hung about his neck, and as I judged about forty years of age.  But it was his face which chiefly caught my eye, for at that moment there was something terrible about it.  It was long, thin, and deeply carved; the eyes were large, and gleamed like gold in sunlight; the mouth was small and well shaped, but it wore a devilish and cruel sneer; the forehead lofty, indicating a man of mind, and marked with a slight scar.  For the rest the cavalier was dark and southern-looking, his curling hair, like my own, was black, and he wore a peaked chestnut-coloured beard.

By the time that I had finished these observations my feet had brought me almost to the stranger’s side, and for the first time he caught sight of me.  Instantly his face changed, the sneer left it, and it became kindly and pleasant looking.  Lifting his bonnet with much courtesy he stammered something in broken English, of which all that I could catch was the word Yarmouth; then perceiving that I did not understand him, he cursed the English tongue and all those who spoke it, aloud and in good Castilian.

‘If the senor will graciously express his wish in Spanish,’ I said, speaking in that language, ‘it may be in my power to help him.’

‘What! you speak Spanish, young sir,’ he said, starting, ’and yet you are not a Spaniard, though by your face you well might be.  Caramba! but it is strange!’ and he eyed me curiously.

‘It may be strange, sir,’ I answered, ’but I am in haste.  Be pleased to ask your question and let me go.’

‘Ah!’ he said, ’perhaps I can guess the reason of your hurry.  I saw a white robe down by the streamlet yonder,’ and he nodded towards the park.  ’Take the advice of an older man, young sir, and be careful.  Make what sport you will with such, but never believe them and never marry them—­lest you should live to desire to kill them!’