It may seem strange that Gowrie should have been so suspicious of the landlady, for she had given him little reason to doubt her. But after his chat with Herries, and her mention of the legacy, and her panic in dodging his eye, he really thought that she had something to conceal. Then again the red mud on her boots perplexed him and aroused his curiosity. How he proposed to see anything in the dark, it was hard to say, as he certainly could not trace the footsteps of the landlady, when the night was so gloomy. However, he climbed over the low fence, which parted the garden into which Herries had dropped, from the road and walked round to the back of the house. The luck held good, for the first thing he saw was a lantern dancing like a will-o'-the-wisp at the lower ends of the grounds, and just where the creek was, as he knew very well. "It's the wumon hersel'," murmured the spy, feeling his wicked old heart beating loudly, "and what's she digging like a ghoul for?" He saw that she was digging, for on creeping nearer, the feeble light of the lantern showed Mrs. Narby delving with a spade on the near shore of the creek. So absorbed was she in her work, that she did not hear the ponderous footsteps of Gowrie. He dropped to the earth near the hedge, and watched, while the rain fell upon him and made him shiver despite the whisky he had been drinking. Here he heard the lapping of the water, and also, strange to say, a muffled beating, some distance away in the fog, which sounded like a giant heart throbbing. Mrs. Narby appeared to hear a noise also, for suddenly, it would seem, she was stricken again with a panic fear, and flinging down her spade, she hurried back to the inn, leaving the lantern on the ground. But at the back door she hesitated; then returned hastily and removed the light, blowing it out as she went towards the house. Gowrie wondered at these strange and guilty proceedings. "Aye, she's the guilty limmer wha did the deed o' darkness," said he, heaving up his huge body from the mud. "Noo, I wonner what's she's hiding in the bosom of the univarsal mother. It surely canna be her ain son that she's murdered," he shivered at the thought, then dismissed it. "Nae, nae, it's her ill-gotten gains, the notes, I'm of opeenion. We'll hae a leuk."