I looked round, and saw an undersized man in black on the door-step of a house, which, as well as I could judge, stood next to Mrs. Catherick’s place of abode—­next to it, on the side nearest to me.  The man did not hesitate a moment about the direction he should take.  He advanced rapidly towards the turning at which I had stopped.  I recognised him as the lawyer’s clerk, who had preceded me in my visit to Blackwater Park, and who had tried to pick a quarrel with me, when I asked him if I could see the house.

I waited where I was, to ascertain whether his object was to come to close quarters and speak on this occasion.  To my surprise he passed on rapidly, without saying a word, without even looking up in my face as he went by.  This was such a complete inversion of the course of proceeding which I had every reason to expect on his part, that my curiosity, or rather my suspicion, was aroused, and I determined on my side to keep him cautiously in view, and to discover what the business might be in which he was now employed.  Without caring whether he saw me or not, I walked after him.  He never looked back, and he led me straight through the streets to the railway station.

The train was on the point of starting, and two or three passengers who were late were clustering round the small opening through which the tickets were issued.  I joined them, and distinctly heard the lawyer’s clerk demand a ticket for the Blackwater station I satisfied myself that he had actually left by the train before I came away.

There was only one interpretation that I could place on what I had just seen and heard.  I had unquestionably observed the man leaving a house which closely adjoined Mrs. Catherick’s residence.  He had been probably placed there, by Sir Percival’s directions, as a lodger, in anticipation of my inquiries leading me, sooner or later, to communicate with Mrs. Catherick.  He had doubtless seen me go in and come out, and he had hurried away by the first train to make his report at Blackwater Park, to which place Sir Percival would naturally betake himself (knowing what he evidently knew of my movements), in order to be ready on the spot, if I returned to Hampshire.  Before many days were over, there seemed every likelihood now that he and I might meet.

Whatever result events might be destined to produce, I resolved to pursue my own course, straight to the end in view, without stopping or turning aside for Sir Percival or for any one.  The great responsibility which weighed on me heavily in London—­the responsibility of so guiding my slightest actions as to prevent them from leading accidentally to the discovery of Laura’s place of refuge—­was removed, now that I was in Hampshire.  I could go and come as I pleased at Welmingham, and if I chanced to fail in observing any necessary precautions, the immediate results, at least, would affect no one but myself.