It was striking ten when Miss Blake quitted the cottage: she heard the quarters and the strokes told out from the distant church at Foxwood. The night was a still one. Tom Pepp, waiting outside, gallantly offered to attend her home. She accepted the escort readily, not caring to go alone, as it was so late. "But I fear it will be keeping your mother up, Tom," she said, in hesitation. "I know you go to bed early." "That's nothing, um," said Tom. "Mother have got her clothes from the wash to fold to-night. She telled me I was not to let you go back alone. It have been a rare good day for drying." So they set off together, talking all the way, for Tom was an intelligent companion, and often had items of news to regale the public with. When they came within view of the Maze gates and Clematis Cottage, the loneliness of the way was over, and Miss Blake sent the lad back again, giving him a three-penny-bit. She was on the Maze side of the way, not having crossed since leaving Mrs. Bell's cottage. And she had all but reached the gates, when the sound of advancing footsteps grew upon her ear. Drawing back amidst the trees--not to watch for Sir Karl Andinnian as she had watched at other times, for she believed him to be in London, but simply to shield herself from observation, as the hour was so late--Miss Blake waited until the footsteps should have gone by. The footsteps did not go by. They halted at the gate: and she, peeping through the leaves, saw it was Sir Karl. He took the key from his pocket as usual, opened the gate, locked it after him, and plunged into the maze. Miss Blake heaved a sigh at man's inventions, and kept still until there was no fear that her rustling away would be heard. Then she moved. She had never been in all her life so near screaming. Taking one step forward to depart, she found herself right in the arms of somebody who had coat sleeves on; another watcher like herself. "I beg your pardon, ma'am." "Good gracious, Mr. Strange, how you frightened me!" she whispered. "Whatever are you doing here?" "Nay, I may ask what you were doing," was the smiling retort. "On your way home, I take it. As for me, I was smoking my cigar, and it has gone out. That was our friend, Sir Karl Andinnian, I fancy, who let himself in there." "Oh yes, it was Sir Karl," was the contemptuous answer, given as they walked on together. "It is not the first night by a good many he has been seen stealing in at those gates." "Paying his court to Mrs. Grey!" returned Mr. Strange, really speaking without any sinister motive, and his mind full of Salter. Miss Blake, in the honest indignation of her heart, and lately come from the upright exhortations of the Reverend Guy, allowed her sentiments their play. Mr. Strange's remark, made in all innocence, had seemed to show her that he too knew of the scandal. "It is shameful!" she said. "Doubly shameful in Sir Karl, a married man." Mr. Strange pricked up his ears. He caught her meaning instantly.