I knew there was a hole in the hedge just there, because Humph and I discovered it one day when Fräulein took us to meet Mother; she’d missed her train, and so we had to wait a long time. It wasn’t true, though, that Humph and I first made that hole, like the station-master said; it was there all the time, though it may have got a teeny bit larger, but then holes are things that grow fast, like in sheets, but ’specially with woollen gloves. Anyway it was a good thing now that it had got big, because I was able to find it quite easily and to scramble through into the field. Nobody saw me, so after waiting a few minutes more I walked across and got over the stile into the road. I had quite forgotten that it would be dark for this walk, when I planned to come home at Mrs. Charlton’s. If I had remembered, I might not have started, because of thinking that Mother would not like it, but I should never have guessed that it would be so horrid in itself. It wasn’t pitch black either, like it sometimes is. I’m not sure it wasn’t worse, because it was light enough to see all sorts of dreadful black things all round, and once you get quite outside Farncombe there aren’t any more lights or houses at all. It was so quiet, too, there wasn’t a sound. All at once I began to think of mad dogs and St. Denis. I thought, suppose there was some one coming after me, holding his head in his hands and looking down at it with his bleeding neck, like in the picture. I wanted to run dreadfully, but I wouldn’t let myself, because if you once start, something seems to come after you that will clutch you with long, clawy fingers if you stop. I thought of Mother instead, as hard as ever I could, and I’d got the penwiper on still, so I held that through my clothes. That made it rather better. Suddenly I saw something in the road moving. I could hardly breathe. It was awful. But then it came nearer, and I saw it was just an ordinary man. He had on his head quite all right. He said “Hullo!” and I said “Good-evening.” I didn’t think he was a very nice man, though; for he came up quite close in rather a rude way. He caught hold of me and said, “That’s a nice brooch you’ve got on,” and I said, “Yes; Father gave it to me last birthday. It’s real gold.” The man didn’t answer because just then we heard wheels coming. He listened for a minute and then he dashed away into the bushes. The carriage was really on the upper road, so he needn’t have minded. I didn’t tell that to him, because I didn’t like him much. It was kind of him, though, to admire my brooch. He was only a common sort of man, so I dare say he’d never been taught manners and things.