Without making any remark, Sergeant Cuff walked on, sinking lower and lower in his own estimation, to the back of the house.  Missing the entrance in the dark, he went on (in spite of my calling to him) till he was stopped by a wicket-gate which led into the garden.  When I joined him to bring him back by the right way, I found that he was looking up attentively at one particular window, on the bed-room floor, at the back of the house.

Looking up, in my turn, I discovered that the object of his contemplation was the window of Miss Rachel’s room, and that lights were passing backwards and forwards there as if something unusual was going on.

“Isn’t that Miss Verinder’s room?” asked Sergeant Cuff.

I replied that it was, and invited him to go in with me to supper.  The Sergeant remained in his place, and said something about enjoying the smell of the garden at night.  I left him to his enjoyment.  Just as I was turning in at the door, I heard “The Last Rose of Summer” at the wicket-gate.  Sergeant Cuff had made another discovery!  And my young lady’s window was at the bottom of it this time!

The latter reflection took me back again to the Sergeant, with a polite intimation that I could not find it in my heart to leave him by himself.  “Is there anything you don’t understand up there?” I added, pointing to Miss Rachel’s window.

Judging by his voice, Sergeant Cuff had suddenly risen again to the right place in his own estimation.  “You are great people for betting in Yorkshire, are you not?” he asked.

“Well?” I said.  “Suppose we are?”

“If I was a Yorkshireman,” proceeded the Sergeant, taking my arm, “I would lay you an even sovereign, Mr. Betteredge, that your young lady has suddenly resolved to leave the house.  If I won on that event, I should offer to lay another sovereign, that the idea has occurred to her within the last hour.”  The first of the Sergeant’s guesses startled me.  The second mixed itself up somehow in my head with the report we had heard from the policeman, that Rosanna Spearman had returned from the sands with in the last hour.  The two together had a curious effect on me as we went in to supper.  I shook off Sergeant Cuff’s arm, and, forgetting my manners, pushed by him through the door to make my own inquiries for myself.

Samuel, the footman, was the first person I met in the passage.

“Her ladyship is waiting to see you and Sergeant Cuff,” he said, before I could put any questions to him.

“How long has she been waiting?” asked the Sergeant’s voice behind me.

“For the last hour, sir.”

There it was again!  Rosanna had come back; Miss Rachel had taken some resolution out of the common; and my lady had been waiting to see the Sergeant—­all within the last hour!  It was not pleasant to find these very different persons and things linking themselves together in this way.  I went on upstairs, without looking at Sergeant Cuff, or speaking to him.  My hand took a sudden fit of trembling as I lifted it to knock at my mistress’s door.