Chapter 10

I listened again: all was silent. The stealthy mover, if there was a mover, was moving no more. My imagination probably, and with a shaking hand I extracted my cigarette-case. Damn it! what was there to be frightened at? “Lawks sakes—look at this ’ere!” The voice came from the hedge not ten yards away, and in my fright I dropped my case in the road. Then with an effort I pulled myself together: to be frightened at my time of life by a mere yokel was not good for one’s pride. “Look ’e ’ere, mister.” “Where are you?”…