While he made this inventory, Doctor Unonius kept Dapple at a standstill; for thus only was he secure of hearing the smallest sound on the road behind. But now he judged it prudent to put another half a mile at least between him and pursuit, and so, replacing the lamp and hastily repacking the bag--with all but the pistol, which he kept handy on the seat beside him, and the map, which he thrust into the breast of his greatcoat--he urged the old horse into a fresh trot, nor pulled up again until he came to the glimmering white gate of Landeweddy Farm. The courtlege of Landeweddy was hedged with tamarisks, now leafless, and through these, above the wall's coping, the upper part of the house loomed an indistinct mass against the indigo-gray night. No light showed anywhere--as why should the widow Tresize or her maid Tryphena be awake at such an hour? The doctor would have required sharp eyes indeed to note, as he drew rein, that the blind of an upper window at the south-east corner had been drawn aside an inch or so out of the perpendicular. Had he detected this, indeed, it would have meant no more than that the widow, awakened from her slumbers by the sound of wheels, had arisen to satisfy the curiosity natural to women. But Doctor Unonius, noting it not, drew forth the map from the breast of his greatcoat, unfolded it, and was proceeding to study it, again by help of the lamp. He recognised it at first glance for a map of the coast and country about Polpeor, and for this he was prepared; but the same glance showed him a slip of paper pinned to the map's left upper corner. The paper bore a scrawl in pencil, ill-written, but decipherable-- 'Mrs Tresize at Landeweddy. 48. White gate, entrance back. By Celler. Mem. I large chest. To be handled quick and hidn in orchd if necessry. Reported good money, but near. No help here but 1 servt maid.' Doctor Unonius stared at the paper, and from the paper lifted his eyes to stare at the black bulk of the farm-house buildings, the stretch of roof, the tall chimneys looming above the tamarisks. But the close rays of the lamp dazzled his eyes, and he saw nothing-- nothing but the white gate glimmering at the end of the courtlege wall. While he peered and blinked, memory recalled to him old Mrs Puckey's tale of the money-chest kept by the widow Tresize beneath her bed. Mischief was brewing, beyond a doubt. Precisely what that mischief might be he could not determine. But somewhere behind him was a man--a stranger, dressed in woman's clothes--making at dead of night for a house occupied by two women only; for a house that held money. And this man had been carrying a bag which contained among other things a pistol, probably loaded, a pair of boots with rubber soles, a map, and a memorandum which said (and almost certainly with truth) that the house was unprotected save by one servant maid.