`Wait，Marian！I’mfrightened——Idon’tseethepath。Supposethefigureshouldfollowus？’
`Notatalllikely，Laura。Thereisreallynothingtobealarmedabout。
Theshoresofthelakearenotfarfromthevillage，andtheyarefreetoanyonetowalkonbydayornight。Itisonlywonderfulwehaveseennolivingcreaturetherebefore。’
Wewerenowintheplantation。Itwasverydark——sodark，thatwefoundsomedifficultyinkeepingthepath。IgaveLauramyarm，andwewalkedasfastaswecouldonourwayback。
Beforewewerehalf-waythroughshestopped，andforcedmetostopwithher。Shewaslistening。
`Hush，’shewhispered。`Ihearsomethingbehindus。’
`Deadleaves，’Isaidtocheerher，`oratwigblownoffthetrees。’
`Itissummertime，Marian，andthereisnotabreathofwind。Listen！’
Iheardthesoundtoo——asoundlikealightfootstepfollowingus。
`Nomatterwhoitis，orwhatitis，’Isaid，`letuswalkon。Inanotherminute，ifthereisanythingtoalarmus，weshallbenearenoughtothehousetobeheard。’
Wewentonquickly——soquickly，thatLaurawasbreathlessbythetimewewerenearlythoughtheplantation，andwithinsightofthelightedwindows。
Iwaitedamomenttogiveherbreathing-time。Justaswewereabouttoproceedshestoppedmeagain，andsignedtomewithherhandtolistenoncemore。Webothhearddistinctlyalong，heavysighbehindus，intheblackdepthsofthetrees。
`Who’sthere？’Icalledout。
Therewasnoanswer。
`Who’sthere？’Irepeated。
Aninstantofsilencefollowed，andthenweheardthelightfallofthefootstepsagain，fainterandfainter——sinkingawayintothedarkness——sinking，sinking，sinking——tilltheywerelostinthesilence。
Wehurriedoutfromthetreestotheopenlawnbeyond，crosseditrapidly，andwithoutanotherwordpassingbetweenus，reachedthehouse。
Inthelightofthehall-lampLauralookedatme，withwhitecheeksandstartledeyes。
`Iamhalfdeadwithfear，’shesaid。`Whocouldithavebeen？’
`Wewilltrytoguesstomorrow，’Ireplied。`Inthemeantimesaynothingtoanyoneofwhatwehaveheardandseen。’
`Whynot？’
`Becausesilenceissafe，andwehaveneedofsafetyinthishouse。’
IsentLauraupstairsimmediately，waitedaminutetotakeoffmyhatandputmyhairsmooth，andthenwentatoncetomakemyfirstinvestigationsinthelibrary，onpretenceofsearchingforabook。
TheresattheCount，fillingoutthelargesteasy-chairinthehouse，smokingandreadingcalmly，withhisfeetonanottoman，hiscravatacrosshisknees，andhisshirtcollarwideopen。AndtheresatMadameFosco，likeaquietchild，onastoolbyhisside，makingcigarettes。Neitherhusbandnorwifecould，byanypossibility，havebeenoutlatethatevening，andhavejustgotbacktothehouseinahurry。IfeltthatmyobjectinvisitingthelibrarywasansweredthemomentIseteyesonthem。
CountFoscoroseinpoliteconfusionandtiedhiscravatonwhenIenteredtheroom。
`Praydon’tletmedisturbyou，’Isaid。`Ihaveonlycomeheretogetabook。’
`Allunfortunatemenofmysizesufferfromtheheat，’saidtheCount，refreshinghimselfgravelywithalargegreenfan。`IwishIcouldchangeplaceswithmyexcellentwife。Sheisascoolatthismomentasafishinthepondoutside。’
TheCountessallowedherselftothawundertheinfluenceofherhusband’squaintcomparison。Iamneverwarm，MissHalcombe，’sheremarked，withthemodestairofawomanwhowasconfessingtooneofherownmerits。
`HaveyouandLadyGlydebeenoutthisevening？’askedtheCount，whileIwastakingabookfromtheshelvestopreserveappearances。
`Yes，wewentouttogetalittleair。’
`MayIaskinwhatdirection？’
`Inthedirectionofthelake——asfarastheboat-house。’
`Aha？Asfarastheboat-house？’
UnderothercircumstancesImighthaveresentedhiscuriosity。ButtonightIhaileditasanotherproofthatneitherhenorhiswifewereconnectedwiththemysteriousappearanceatthelake。
`Nomoreadventures，IsupPose，thisevening？’hewenton。`Nomorediscoveries，likeyourdiscoveryofthewoundeddog？’
Hefixedhisunfathomablegreyeyesonme，withthatcold，clear，irresistibleglitterinthemwhichalwaysforcesmetolookathim，andalwaysmakesmeuneasywhileIdolook。Anunutterablesuspicionthathismindispryingintomineovercomesmeatthesetimes，anditovercamemenow。
`No，’Isaidshortly；`noadventures——nodiscoveries。’
Itriedtolookawayfromhimandleavetheroom。Strangeasitseems，IhardlythinkIshouldhavesucceededintheattemptifMadameFoscohadnothelpedmebycausinghimtomoveandlookawayfirst。
`Count，youarekeepingMissHalcombestanding，’shesaid。
Themomentheturnedroundtogetmeachair，Iseizedmyopportunity——thankedhim——mademyexcuses——andslippedout。
Anhourlater，whenLaura’smaidhappenedtobeinhermistress’sroom，Itookoccasiontorefertotheclosenessofthenight，withaviewtoascertainingnexthowtheservantshadbeenpassingtheirtime。
`Haveyoubeensufferingmuchfromtheheatdownstairs？’Iasked。
`No，miss，’saidthegirl，`wehavenotfeltittospeakof。’
`Youhavebeenoutinthewoodsthen，Isuppose？’
`Someofusthoughtofgoing，miss。Butcooksaidsheshouldtakeherchairintothecoolcourt-yard，outsidethekitchendoor，andonsecondthoughts，alltherestofustookourchairsouttheretoo。’
Thehousekeeperwasnowtheonlypersonwhoremainedtobeaccountedfor。
`IsMrsMichelsongonetobedyet？’Iinquired。
`Ishouldthisnot，miss，’saidthegirl，smiling。`MrsMichelsonismorelikelytobegettingupjustnowthangoingtobed。’
`Why？Whatdoyoumean？HasMrsMichelsonbeentakingtoherbedinthedaytime？’
`No，miss，notexactly，butthenextthingtoit。She’sbeenasleepalltheeveningonthesofainherownroom。’
PuttingtogetherwhatIobservedformyselfinthelibrary，andwhatIhavejustheardfromLaura’smaid，oneconclusionseemsinevitable。ThefigurewesawatthelakewasnotthefigureofMadameFosco，ofherhusband，orofanyoftheservants。Thefootstepsweheardbehinduswerenotthefootstepsofanyonebelongingtothehouse。
Whocouldithavebeen？
Itseemsuselesstoinquire。Icannotevendecidewhetherthefigurewasaman’sorawoman’s。IcanonlysaythatIthinkitwasawoman’s。
[NextChapter][TableofContents]WomaninWhite：Chapter17[PreviousChapter][TableofContents]Chapter17June18th——Themiseryofself-reproachwhichIsufferedyesterdayevening，onhearingwhatLauratoldmeintheboat-house，returnedinthelonelinessofthenight，andkeptmewakingandwretchedforhours。
Ilightedmycandleatlast，andsearchedthroughmyoldjournalstoseewhatmyshareinthefatalerrorofhermarriagehadreallybeen，andwhatImighthaveoncedonetosaveherfromit。Theresultsoothedmealittle——foritshowedthat，howeverblindlyandignorantlyIacted，Iactedforthebest。Cryinggenerallydoesmeharm；butitwasnotsolastnight——Ithinkitrelievedme。Irosethismorningwithasettledresolutionandaquietmind。NothingSirPercivalcansayordoshalleverirritatemeagain，ormakemeforgetforonemomentthatIamstayinghereindefianceofmortifications，insults，andthreats，forLaura’sserviceandforLaura’ssake。
Thespeculationsinwhichwemighthaveindulgedthismorning，onthesubjectofthefigureatthelakeandthefootstepsintheplantation，havebeenallsuspendedbyatriflingaccidentwhichhascausedLauragreatregret。ShehaslostthelittlebroochIgaveherforakeepsakeonthedaybeforehermarriage。Assheworeitwhenwewentoutyesterdayeveningwecanonlysupposethatitmusthavedroppedfromherdress，eitherintheboat-houseoronourwayback。Theservantshavebeensenttosearch，andhavereturnedunsuccessful。AndnowLauraherselfhasgonetolookforit。Whethershefindsitornotthelosswillhelptoexcuseherabsencefromthehouse，ifSirPercivalreturnsbeforetheletterfromMrGilmore’spartnerisplacedinmyhands。
Oneo’clockhasjuststruck。IamconsideringwhetherIhadbetterwaithereforthearrivalofthemessengerfromLondon，orslipawayquietly，andwatchforhimoutsidethelodgegate。