Before I had advanced ten paces a man approached me from the direction leading to the church.  He spoke respectfully as we met.  I could not see his face, but judging by his voice only, he was a perfect stranger to me.

“I beg your pardon, Sir Percival——­” he began.

I stopped him before he could say more.

“The darkness misleads you,” I said.  “I am not Sir Percival.”

The man drew back directly.

“I thought it was my master,” he muttered, in a confused, doubtful way.

“You expected to meet your master here?”

“I was told to wait in the lane.”

With that answer he retraced his steps.  I looked back at the cottage and saw the clerk coming out, with the lantern lighted once more.  I took the old man’s arm to help him on the more quickly.  We hastened along the lane, and passed the person who had accosted me.  As well as I could see by the light of the lantern, he was a servant out of livery.

“Who’s that?” whispered the clerk.  “Does he know anything about the keys?”

“We won’t wait to ask him,” I replied.  “We will go on to the vestry first.”

The church was not visible, even by daytime, until the end of the lane was reached.  As we mounted the rising ground which led to the building from that point, one of the village children—­a boy—­ came close up to us, attracted by the light we carried, and recognised the clerk.

“I say, measter,” said the boy, pulling officiously at the clerk’s coat, “there be summun up yander in the church.  I heerd un lock the door on hisself—­I heerd un strike a loight wi’ a match.”

The clerk trembled and leaned against me heavily.

“Come! come!” I said encouragingly.  “We are not too late.  We will catch the man, whoever he is.  Keep the lantern, and follow me as fast as you can.”

I mounted the hill rapidly.  The dark mass of the church-tower was the first object I discerned dimly against the night sky.  As I turned aside to get round to the vestry, I heard heavy footsteps close to me.  The servant had ascended to the church after us.  “I don’t mean any harm,” he said, when I turned round on him, “I’m only looking for my master.”  The tones in which he spoke betrayed unmistakable fear.  I took no notice of him and went on.

The instant I turned the corner and came in view of the vestry, I saw the lantern-skylight on the roof brilliantly lit up from within.  It shone out with dazzling brightness against the murky, starless sky.

I hurried through the churchyard to the door.

As I got near there was a strange smell stealing out on the damp night air.  I heard a snapping noise inside—­I saw the light above grow brighter and brighter—­a pane of the glass cracked—­I ran to the door and put my hand on it.  The vestry was on fire!

Before I could move, before I could draw my breath after that discovery, I was horror-struck by a heavy thump against the door from the inside.  I heard the key worked violently in the lock—­I heard a man’s voice behind the door, raised to a dreadful shrillness, screaming for help.