They went into the dining-room and sat down to the table, which seemed so empty and dismal without the master of the house. The carriage was ordered to meet the last train. Celia ate an excellent dinner, talking more or less all the time. Laura was too agitated to eat anything. She was glad to get back to the drawing-room, where she could walk up and down, and lift the curtain from one of the windows every now and then to look out and listen for wheels that were not likely to be heard within an hour. ‘Laura, you are making me positively miserable,’ Celia cried at last. ‘You are as monotonous in your movements as a squirrel in his cage, and don’t seem half so happy as a squirrel. It’s a fine, dry night. We had better wrap ourselves up and walk to the gate to meet the carriage. Anything will be better than this.’ ‘I should enjoy it above all things,’ said Laura. Five minutes later they were both clad in fur jackets and hats, and were walking briskly towards the avenue. The night was fine, and lit with wintry stars. There was no moon, but that clear sky, with its pale radiance of stars, gave quite enough light to direct the footsteps of the two girls, who knew every inch of the way. They had not gone far before Celia, whose tongue ran on gaily, and whose eyes roamed in every direction, espied a man walking a little way in front of them. ‘A strange man,’ she cried. ‘Look, Laura! I hope he’s not a burglar!’ ‘Why should he be a burglar? No doubt he is some tradesman who has been delivering goods at the kitchen door.’ ‘At ten o’clock?’ cried Celia. ‘Most irregular. Why, every respectable tradesman in the village is in bed and asleep by this time.’ Laura made no further suggestion. The subject had no interest for her. She was straining her ears to catch the first sound of wheels on the frost-bound high-road. Celia quickened her pace. ‘Let’s try and overtake him,’ she said; ‘I think it’s our duty. You ought not to allow suspicious-looking strangers to hang about your grounds without at least trying to find out who they are. He may have a revolver, but I’ll risk it.’ With this heroic determination Celia went off at a run, and presently came up with the man, who was walking steadily on in front of her. At the sound of her footsteps he stopped and looked round. ‘I beg your pardon,’ gasped Celia, in a breathless condition, and looking anxiously for the expected revolver. ‘Have you been leaving anything at the Manor House?’ ‘No, madam. I’ve only been making an inquiry,’ the man replied quietly. ‘It is one of John’s tenants, Celia,’ said Laura overtaking them. ‘You have been to inquire about Mr. Treverton’s return, I suppose,’ she added, to the stranger. ‘Yes, madam. My visit is to come to an end on Monday morning, and I am getting anxious. I want to see Mr. Treverton before I go back. It will save me a journey to and fro, you see, madam, and time is money to a man in my position.’