"Not at home!" retorted Tod, resenting the old woman's answer, as though it had been a personal affront. "Where is he?" "Master Hyde has only just stepped out, sir; twenty minutes ago, or so," said she, pleadingly excusing the fact. Which was but natural: she had been Hyde's nurse when he was a child; and had now come here to do for him. "I dare say, sir, he be only walking about a bit, to get the fresh air." Tod whistled some bars of a tune thoughtfully. He did not like to be crossed. "Well, look here, Mrs. Preen," said he. "Some of us are going to fish in the long pond on Mr. Jacobson's grounds to-morrow: tell Mr. Hyde that if he would like to join us, I shall be happy to see him. Breakfast, half-past eight o'clock; sharp." In turning out beyond the garden, I could not help noticing how pretty and romantic was the scene. A good many trees grew about that part, thick enough almost for a wood in places; and the light and shade, cast by the moon on the grass amidst them, had quite a weird appearance. It was a bright night; the moon high in the sky. "Is that Hyde?" cried Tod. Halting for a moment in doubt, he peered out over the field to the distance. Some one was leisurely pacing under the opposite trees. _Two_ people, I thought: but they were completely in the shade. "I think it is Hyde, Tod. Somebody is with him." "Just wait another instant, lad, and they'll be in that patch of moonlight by the turning." But they did not go into that patch of moonlight. Just before they reached it (and the two figures were plain enough now) they turned back again and took the narrow inlet that led to Oxlip Dell. Whoever it was with Hyde had a hooded cloak on. Was it a red one? Tod laughed. "Oh, by George, here's fun! He has got Kettie out for a moonlight stroll. Let's go and ask them how they enjoy it." "Hyde might not like us to." "There you are again, Johnny, with your queer scruples! Stuff and nonsense! Stockhausen can't have anything to say to Kettie that all the world may not hear. I want to tell him about to-morrow." Tod made off across the grass for the inlet, I after him. Yes, there they were, promenading Oxlip Dell in the flickering light, now in the shade, now in the brightest of the moonbeams; Hyde's arm hugging her red cloak. Tod gave a grunt of displeasure. "Stockhausen must be doing it for pastime," he said; "but he ought not to be so thoughtless. Ketira the gipsy would give the girl a shaking if she knew: she----" The words came to an abrupt ending. There stood Ketira herself. She was at the extreme end of the inlet amid the trees, holding on by the trunk of one, round which her head was cautiously pushed to view the promenaders. Comparatively speaking, it was dark just here; but I could see the strangely-wild look in the gipsy's eyes: the woe-begone expression of her remarkable face. "It is coming," she said, apparently in answer to Tod's remarks, which she could not have failed to hear. "It is coming quickly."