“’ . . .  He who filches from me my good name
      Robs me of that which not enriches him
      And makes me poor indeed.’

“No one had filched my honour—­I had sold it to a good man, but yet without enriching him, while in the loss of it I knew myself poor indeed.  At the second milestone I turned back, more eager now to find the Major and get rid of the money than ever I had been to obtain it.

“My face was no sooner turned again towards the cottage than I broke into a run, and so good pace I made between running and walking that it cannot have been more than an hour from my leaving the garden before I arrived back at the head of the lane.  The evening was dusking in, but by no means dark as yet, even though a dark cloud had crept up from the west and overhung the plantation to the right.  I looked down the lane as I entered it, and again—­yes, ladies, as surely as before—­I saw a man cross it from the garden gate and step into the plantation!

“Who the man was I could not tell, the light being so uncertain.  Although he crossed the lane just where Coffin had crossed it and disappeared in just the same manner, I had an impression that he was not Coffin, and that his gait, for one thing, differed from Coffin’s.  But I tell you this for what it is worth:  I was startled, you may be sure, and hurried down the lane after him even quicker than I had hurried after the first man; but when I came to the stile, he, like the first man, had vanished, and within the plantation it was impossible by this time to see more than twenty yards deep.

“Again I turned and crossed the lane to the garden gate.  A sort of twilight lay over the turf between me and the summer-house, and beneath the apple-trees skirting my path to it on the left you might say that it was night; but the water at the foot of the garden threw up a sort of glimmer, and there was a glimmer, too, on the vane above the flagstaff.  I noted this and that, though my eyes were searching for Major Brooks in the dark shadow under the pent of the summer-house.

“Towards this I stepped; but in the dark I must have walked a few feet wide of the straight line, for I remember brushing against a low-growing branch of one of the apple-trees, and this must have caught in my eyeglass-ribbon and torn it, for when I came to fumble for them a few seconds later to help my sight, the glasses were gone.

“By this time I had reached the summer-house and come to a halt, three paces, maybe, from the doorstep.  ‘Major Brooks!’ I called softly, and then again, but a thought louder, ‘Major Brooks!’

“There was no answer, ladies, and I turned myself half about, uncertain whether to go back up the lane and knock at the front door or to seek my way to the house through the garden.  Just then my boot touched something soft, and I bent and saw the Major’s body stretched across the step close beside my ankles.  I stooped lower and put down a hand.  It touched his shoulder, and then the ground beneath his shoulder, and the ground was moist.  I drew my hand back with a shiver, and just at that moment, as I stared at my fingers, the heavy cloud beyond the plantation lifted itself clear of the trees and let the last of the daylight through—­enough to show me a dark stain running from my finger-tips and trickling towards the palm.