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The
village
church
clock
chimed
nine
o
’
clock
as
I
passed
through
the
lodge
gates
.
I
turned
to
the
left
towards
the
village
,
and
almost
cannoned
into
a
man
coming
in
the
opposite
direction
.
"
This
the
way
to
Fernly
Park
,
mister
?
"
asked
the
stranger
in
a
hoarse
voice
.
I
looked
at
him
.
He
was
wearing
a
hat
pulled
down
over
his
eyes
,
and
his
coat
collar
turned
up
.
I
could
see
little
or
nothing
of
his
face
,
but
he
seemed
a
young
fellow
.
The
voice
was
rough
and
uneducated
.
"
These
are
the
lodge
gates
here
,
"
I
said
.
"
Thank
you
,
mister
.
"
He
paused
,
and
then
added
,
quite
unnecessarily
,
"
I
’
m
a
stranger
in
these
parts
,
you
see
.
"
He
went
on
,
passing
through
the
gates
as
I
turned
to
look
after
him
.
The
odd
thing
was
that
his
voice
reminded
me
of
someone
’
s
voice
that
I
knew
,
but
whose
it
was
I
could
not
think
.
Ten
minutes
later
I
was
at
home
once
more
.
Caroline
was
full
of
curiosity
to
know
why
I
had
returned
so
early
.
I
had
to
make
up
a
slightly
fictitious
account
of
the
evening
in
order
to
satisfy
her
,
and
I
had
an
uneasy
feeling
that
she
saw
through
the
transparent
device
.
At
ten
o
’
clock
I
rose
,
yawned
,
and
suggested
bed
,
Caroline
acquiesced
.
It
was
Friday
night
,
and
on
Friday
night
I
wind
the
clocks
.
I
did
it
as
usual
,
whilst
Caroline
satisfied
herself
that
the
servants
had
locked
up
the
kitchen
properly
.
It
was
a
quarter
past
ten
as
we
went
up
the
stairs
.
