Moving at a leisurely pace, he worked round to the back of the house again and stepped off the grass on to the gravel outside the stable yard. And as his shoes grated in the warm silence a splash of white suddenly appeared in the blackness before him. "Johnnie?" He came back on his heels as if he had received a blow. It was the voice of Pat, sounding in the warm silence like moonlight made audible. "Is that you, Johnnie?" John broke into a little run. His heart was jumping, and all the happiness which had been glowing inside him had leaped up into a roaring flame. That mysterious premonition had meant something, after all. But he had never dreamed it could mean anything so wonderful as this. II The night was full of stars, but overhanging trees made the spot where they stood a little island of darkness in which all that was visible of Pat was a faint gleaming of white. John stared at her dumbly. Only once in his life before could he remember having felt as he felt now, and that was one raw November evening at school at the close of the football match against Marlborough when, after battling wearily through a long half hour to preserve the slenderest of all possible leads, he had heard the referee's whistle sound through the rising mists and had stood up, bruised and battered and covered with mud, to the realization that the game was over and won. He had had his moments since then: he had captained Oxford and played for England, and had touched happiness in other and milder departments of life, but never again till now had he felt that strange, almost awful ecstasy. Pat, for her part, appeared composed. "That mongrel of yours is a nice sort of watch-dog," she said. "I've been flinging tons of gravel at your window and she hasn't uttered a sound." "Emily's gone away somewhere." "I hope she gets bitten by a rabbit," said Pat. "I'm off that hound for life. I met her in the village a little while ago and she practically cut me dead." There was a pause. "Pat!" said John, thickly. "I thought I'd come up and see how you were getting on. It was such a lovely night, I couldn't go to bed. What were you doing, prowling round?" It suddenly came home to John that he was neglecting his vigil. The thought caused him no remorse whatever. A thousand burglars with a thousand jemmies could break into the Hall and he would not stir a step to prevent them. "Oh, just walking." "Were you surprised to see me?" "Yes." "We don't see much of each other nowadays." "I didn't know.... I wasn't sure you wanted to see me." "Good gracious! What made you think that?" "I don't know."