CHAPTER XV IN THE TEETH OF THE STORM An instinct of furtiveness, newly awakened by the suggestion of Christine Fanshaw's letter, had led Grantley Imason to send no word of his coming. He hired a fly at the station, and drove over the downs to Milldean. It was a wild evening. A gale had been blowing from the south-west all day, and seemed to be increasing in violence. A thick rain was driven in sharp spats against the closed windows. The old horse toiled slowly along, while the impatient man chafed helplessly inside. At last he stopped at Old Mill House and dismissed the carriage. Mrs. Mumple's servant-girl came to the door, and said her mistress was up at his house, and was, she thought, to stay there all night. Grantley nodded, and began to trudge up the hill. He had no thought but to seek and find Sibylla. It was now between seven and eight, and dusk had fallen. He saw a light in the dining-room windows. He walked into the hall and took off his hat. A servant saw him and ran to help him. Saying briefly that he would want some dinner, he went into the dining-room. Mrs. Mumple sat there alone over a chop. "You come home, Mr. Imason!" she exclaimed. "Sibylla didn't expect you, did she?" "No, I didn't expect to come. I didn't think I could get away, and it wasn't worth wiring. Where is Sibylla?" "How unlucky! She's gone away--to Fairhaven. She didn't expect you. She's to sleep the night there." He came to the table and poured himself out a glass of sherry. He was calm and quiet in his manner. "To sleep at Fairhaven? Why, who's she going to stay with?" "Mrs. Valentine. You know her? She lives by the church--a red house with creepers." Mrs. Valentine was, as he knew, an old, but not an intimate, acquaintance. He shot a keen glance at Mrs. Mumple's simple broad face. "I'm here to look after baby. But of course since you've come----" "No, no, you stay here; and go on with your dinner. They'll bring something for me directly." He pulled up a chair and sat down. "To sleep at Mrs. Valentine's? Has she often done that before when I've been away?" "She used to as a girl sometimes, Mr. Imason; but no, never lately, I think--not since she married." There were no signs of disturbance or distress about Mrs. Mumple. Grantley sat silent while the servant laid a place for him and promised some dinner in ten minutes. "Has Sibylla been all right?" "Oh, yes! A little fretful the last day or two, I think. But Mr. Blake came over from Fairhaven yesterday, and she had a nice walk with him; and she was with baby all the morning." "All the morning? When did she go to Fairhaven?" "I think it was about three o'clock. It's a terrible evening, Mr. Imason." "Very rough indeed." "The wind rose quite suddenly this morning, and it's getting worse every minute." Grantley made no answer. After a pause the old woman went on-- "I've got some news." "News have you? What news?" He was suddenly on the alert.