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But now he judged it prudent to put another half a mile at least between him and pursuit, and so, replacing the lamp and hastily repacking the bag with all but the pistol, which he kept handy on the seat beside him, and the map, which he thrust into the breast of his greatcoat he urged the old horse into a fresh trot, nor pulled up again until he came to the glimmering white gate of Landeweddy Farm.
The courtlege of Landeweddy was hedged with tamarisks, now leafless, and through these, above the wall's coping, the upper part of the house loomed an indistinct mass against the indigo-gray night. No light showed anywhere as why should the widow Tresize or her maid Tryphena be awake at such an hour?
But the doctor's gaze travelled rather to the gun-racks. He counted a dozen firearms, antique but serviceable, and suggested that, with powder and shot, Landeweddy was capable of standing a pretty stiff siege.
The paper bore a scrawl in pencil, ill-written, but decipherable 'Mrs Tresize at Landeweddy. 48. White gate, entrance back. By Celler. Mem. I large chest. To be handled quick and hidn in orchd if necessry. Reported good money, but near. No help here but 1 servt maid.
'That's a pity, too: for Landeweddy Farm's her own freehold, an' I've heard her say more'n once how sorry she feels for you, livin' alone as you do. I don't everyways like Missus Tresize, but she's a bowerly woman an' nimble for her age which can't be forty, not by a year or two. Old Tresize married her for her looks.
'Mrs Tresize at Landeweddy, 48, she read, holding it under the lamp, and slightly puckering her handsome brows. 'That doesn't flatter you, ma'am. 'Hey? Mrs Tresize looked up sharply. 'You don't suppose that means my age? 'I er fancied it might. It would be a guess, of course. 'Nonsense, said Mrs Tresize. 'It is nonsense, the doctor agreed. 'The man was obviously misinformed.
Certainly she can have dabbled no more in smuggling, and as certainly she had told the truth about her age. Thrice in the years that followed Doctor Unonius spent some hours of the night, waiting, in the best kitchen at Landeweddy; and Mrs Rattenbury on neither of these occasions so critical for herself forgot to have him provided with a decanter of excellent brandy.
The road led no whither but to Polpeor and the coast, and passed on its way no human habitation but Landeweddy Farm and a couple of cottages half a mile beyond it, close under the dip of the hill. . . . 'You are shivering, said Doctor Unonius, after a pause. The crouching figure nodded, but did not speak. 'Are you cold? Here, take some more of the rug.
I mind goin' to the weddin', an' she brought en no more'n her clothes an' herself inside of 'em: an' now she've a-buried th' old doter, an' sits up at Landeweddy in her own parlour a-playin' the pianner with both hands. What d'ee reckon a woman does that for? 'Maybe because she is fond of music, said Doctor Unonius dryly.
At this rate half an hour would bring him to the gate of Landeweddy Farm, under the lee of Four Barrows; and beyond Landeweddy, where the road plunged straight to Polpeor and the coast, he would reach complete shelter.
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