"And you live at Crabtree Cottage?"

"How did you know?"

"I saw you go in there."

"So you watched me before."

"I just happened to be near."

"I must go or my Aunt Amelia will be angry."

"You live with your Aunt Amelia, do you?"

"Yes."

"Where are your father and mother?"

"I must go. The vicar will tell you about the church."

"Yes, in a moment. Who was the lady who visited you two days ago?"

"I know who you are," I said. "You're the one who was angry about the fly."

"Yes, that's right. They told me she had only gone to Crabtree Cottage. She's a most attractive lady. What is her name?"

"Miss Anabel."

"Oh, I see, and does she call to see you often?"

"Yes, she does."

Suddenly he took hold of my chin and looked into my face. I believed then that he was the Devil and that he was looking for the mole on my chin.

I said: "I know what you're looking for. Let me go. I must go home now. If you want to see the church ask the vicar."

"Suewellyn," he said. "What's wrong? What am I looking for? Tell me?"

"It's nothing to do with the Devil. It's something you're born with. It's like having a strawberry on your face when your mother fancied strawberries."

"What?" he asked.

"It's nothing, I tell you. Lots of people have them. It's only a mole."

"It's very nice," he said. "Very nice indeed. Now, Suewellyn, you've been very kind to me and I am going to see you home."

I almost ran out of the church. He was beside me. We walked swiftly through the graveyard to the edge of the green.

"Now, there's Crabtree Cottage," he said. "You run along. I'll watch from here until you are safely in. Good night, Suewellyn, and thanks for being so kind to me."

I ran.

As I was going to my room, Aunt Amelia came out of hers.

"You're late," she said.

"I was kept in."

She nodded with a smile of satisfaction.

"I had to write out the Creed," I told her.

"That'll teach you to lie abed," she commented.

I went to my room. I could not tell her about the stranger. It was all so odd. Why had he followed me? Why had he wanted me to show him the church? For when he was in it he seemed hardly interested in it. It was rather mystifying. At least I had not given way to my fear. I had braved the graveyard and discovered that the ghost was only a man after all.

I wondered if I should ever see him again.

I did not.

When I looked in on Matty the next day she told me that the gentleman had left the King William. Tom had carried his bag down for him to the fly; and he had gone off on the train traveling first class.

"He was a real proper gentleman," said Matty, "traveling first class and having all the best at the King William. John Jeffers don't have many like him there, and he gave Tom a shilling for carrying his bags up and another for bringing them down. A regular gentleman."

I pondered whether to tell Matty about my encounter in the graveyard with that regular real proper gentleman.

I hesitated. I wasn't quite sure about it myself. Perhaps I'll tell her one day, but not yet ... no, not yet.

At the end of the week I had ceased to feel that vague apprehension which had come to me since I first saw the man in the graveyard. After all he had seemed kind in the church. He had one of the handsomest faces I had ever seen. He reminded me a little of Joel. His voice had been similar and he had smiled in the same way. He had been a visitor to the church and had thought that I, who lived in the village, could tell him something about it. That was all.

I knew he had not gone to the vicar the next day because it was the next morning he left.

It had been a cold day. Miss Brent had lighted a fire in the schoolroom—even so, our fingers were cramped with cold and that was not good for our handwriting. We were all glad when three o'clock came and we could run home. I looked in on Matty, who was seated before a roaring fire. The kettle, which was covered with black soot, was on the hob and it would not be long before she was making her tea.

She welcomed me as she always did with her wheezy laugh which shook her plump body.

"This is a day and a half," she said. "Wind coming straight in from the east. Even a dog wouldn't go out on a day like this ... unless he had to."

I nestled at her feet and wished I could stay there all the evening. It would not be nearly so cozy in Crabtree Cottage. I knew there was a layer of dust on the mantelshelf and crumbs under Matty's chair; but there was a coziness in these things which I missed at home. I thought of my icily cold bedroom, going up there to undress and walking carefully over the dangerously polished linoleum, and leaping into bed to shiver. Beside Matty's fireplace was a stone hot water bottle which she took to bed with her.

Tom came in and said: "Hello, Granma." He nodded towards me. He was always shy of me.

"Ain't you wanted at King William?" asked Matty.

"Got hour off to myself before we get busy. Not that there'll be much ... night like this."

"Oh, you don't get them fine gentlemen every day."

"Wish we did," said Tom.

I found myself telling them about the encounter in the graveyard. I had not meant to, but somehow it made me seem important to tell. Tom had carried his bags and had his shilling. I wanted them to know that I, too, had made his acquaintance.

"His sort is always interested in churches and suchlike," said Tom.

Matty nodded. "There was a man come down here once ... after the tombs he was. There he would sit ... down by Sir John Ecclestone's graven image, and rub it off on a bit of paper. Oh yes, you get that sort."

"When I was kept in late I went home through the graveyard. He was there ... waiting."

"Waiting?" echoed Tom. "What for?"

"I don't know. He wanted me to go into the church with him and I told him the vicar would tell him all he wanted to know."

"Oh, Vicar would like that. Once he gets started on the arches and the windows you can't stop him."

"It was funny," I said. "It was really as though he wanted to see me ... not the church."

Matty looked sharply at Tom.

"Tom," she said sternly, "I told you to keep your eye on Suewellyn."

"I do, Granma. She was kept in that day, wasn't you, Suewellyn, and I had to go to work at the inn."

I nodded.

"You don't want to go looking into no churches with strange men, ducks," said Matty. "Not churches nor nothing."

"I didn't really want to, Matty. He somehow made me."

"And how long was you in the church?" asked Matty intently.

"About five minutes."

"And he just talked to you, did he? He didn't ... er ..."

I was puzzled. Matty was trying to tell me something and I wasn't sure what.

"Never mind," she went on. "You just remember, and His High and Mighty Nibs is gone away, I believe. So there won't be no more visiting churches for him."

There was silence in the cottage. Then the center of the fire collapsed and sent out a shower of sparks onto the hearth.

Tom took the poker and knelt down, poking the fire. His face was very red.

Matty was unusually silent.

I could stay no longer but I made up my mind that when I was alone with Matty I was going to ask her why she was so disturbed about this man.

But that opportunity never came.

It had been a mild and misty day. It was almost dark just after three o'clock when I came home from school. As I came to the green I saw the station fly outside Crabtree Cottage and I wondered what it could mean. Miss Anabel always let us know when she was coming.

So I did not call in on Matty as I had intended but ran as fast as I could into the cottage.

Aunt Amelia and Uncle William came out of the parlor as I entered. They looked bewildered.

"You're home," said Aunt Amelia unnecessarily; she gulped and there was a brief silence. Then she said: "Something has happened."

"Miss Anabel ..." I began.

"She's upstairs in your room. You'd better go up. She'll tell you."

I ran up the stairs. There was chaos in my room. My clothes were on the bed and Miss Anabel had begun putting them into a bag.

"Suewellyn!" she cried as I entered. "I'm so glad you're early."

She ran to me and hugged me. Then she said: "You're coming away with me. I can't explain now... . You'll understand later. Oh, Suewellyn, you do want to come!"

"With you, Miss Anabel, of course!"

"I was afraid ... after all, you've been here so long ... I thought... never mind... . I've got your clothes. Is there anything else?"

"There are my books."

"All right then ... get them... ."

"Is it for a holiday?"

"No," she said, "it's for always. You're going to live with me now and ... and ... But I'll tell you about it later. At the moment I want us to catch the train."

"Where are we going?"

"I'm not sure. But a long way. Suewellyn, just help me."

I found the few books I possessed and those with my clothes went into the traveling bag which Miss Anabel had brought with her.

I was quite bewildered. Secretly I had always hoped for something like this. Now it had come I felt too stunned to accept it.

She shut the bag and took my hand.

We paused for a second or so to look round the room. The sparsely furnished room which had been mine for as long as I could remember. Highly polished linoleum, texts on the walls-all improving and all slightly menacing. The one which I had been most conscious of was: "Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practise to deceive!"