Arrived there, he listened again and was satisfied the barking was nearer, so instead of returning by the fields which would almost certainly have meant an encounter with the dog, he made his way to the foot of the waterfall, and by means of the steps cut in the face of the rock reached the hazardous path that led to the moors. He was now safe from pursuit by any dog; but imagination was by this time active, and a movement that he thought he heard in the ravine below checked the impulse to stay, and he hurried on. Angry disappointment at the failure of his enterprise filled his thoughts with bitterness, and his brow was black as Gordale itself as he strode over the moor. To severe mental disturbance there was also added physical discomfort, for rain began to fall heavily, and he was soon very wet. By the time he reached the road he was in a disagreeable mood; but his spirits revived somewhat when he found himself on his own doorstep and reflected that he had reached home unobserved. “The usual Inman luck!” he said to himself with gloomy satisfaction. He was of a different mind the next moment, for the new Chubb lock he had fixed failed to respond to the demand of the key and he found himself locked out. Very stealthily he raised the latch and put his knee to the door. It was secured by the heavy lock, and the latch of the Chubb was evidently pegged back. Someone had tampered with it in his absence! The frown deepened on his face, but he did not lose his self-command, and having looked cautiously round he struck a match, and shading it with his hands stooped down and examined the flagstone in front of the door. Satisfied with what he saw, he turned and entered his workshop, where he made his way to the office, but sleep was far from his eyes and thoughts, and he was conscious of no lack. When day came stealing down the moors, he went out and tried the latchlock on the house-door again. This time it responded at once, and he nodded his head slowly as if a hypothesis had received support, and went upstairs to his room. When he heard Keturah bustling about in the kitchen he went across the landing into his wife’s room. Nancy, in bed and awake, looked up in surprise when Inman came and stood beside her. “What ails you?” she asked. For a moment he allowed his stern eyes to be his sole weapon of attack, but when her face remained fearless he began to speak. “Innocent child!” he sneered; “innocent lamb! What a pity your husband isn’t simple and innocent too! Then you could play with his hair, and coo him to sleep with nice little songs, and sell him to his enemies, like the painted woman in the Bible!” “Have you lost your reason, James, or are you drunk?” Though a savage gleam was replacing the sneer in the cold eyes she thrust back fear and spoke quite calmly.