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straight past the house.
    Disappointed, I stood there; then I noticed that the man had come to the edge of the pavement, his hand in his pocket; he was staring after the cab, and oddly enough I seemed to sense an exasperated frustration—which suggested that he, too, might have been disappointed that the cab had gone by.
    While I was thinking how strange it was and wondering what he could be waiting for, there was a gust of wind which lifted his hat and sent it rolling along the pavement under the street lamp.
    For a few seconds I looked straight into his face. I noticed at once that his dark hair grew rather low on his forehead into what I had heard called a widow’s peak; and there was a white mark on his left cheek which looked like a scar.
    Then he was running along the pavement to retrieve his hat. This he did and slammed it back on his head.
    I had become quite interested in him by this time and was wondering whether he intended to wait there the whole night. He must be waiting for someone. I wondered who.
    I went back to my book and attempted to read for just a little longer. I was soon yawning. My father would not come now. Obviously he had gone to the Greenham’s. It must have been a very late sitting.
    I went back to my bedroom, but before retiring for the night I went to the window to look out on the square.
    The man had gone.
    At about eleven o’clock the next morning my father came home.
    “It was a very late night sitting,” I said.
    “Yes, it went on until one.”
    “How are the Greenhams?”
    “Delighted about Joel. They can’t talk of anything else.”
    “Can you guess how long it will be before he comes home?”
    “I imagine it will be quite six weeks out there and then of course there is the journey to and from. I must say it is very convenient to have their hospitality. Their place is only a five-minute walk from the House, and there’s always someone to let me in and the room is kept ready. I think Sir John likes to hear all that went on the previous night. He’s always wanting a good chat in the morning.”
    “I suppose Bates could bring you home.”
    Bates was the coachman who drove him to the House but he always came home by cab because of the uncertainty of the time.
    “It would be impossible,” he said now. “He might be there all night. No. This is an excellent arrangement. I’m lucky to have friends so near. It’s become a custom. I think they’d be hurt if I didn’t make us of it.”
    “Will you be going to the House this afternoon?”
    “Oh, yes.”
    “Another late sitting?”
    “Who knows? But I expect everyone will be a little weary after last night. There’s a great deal going on, though. I don’t think the government can last. Salisbury is eagerly waiting in the wings, and this defeat from the Lords over the Bill …”
    I said nothing. I did not want to stress his part in the defeat.
    He was ready to leave in mid-afternoon.
    “I can’t believe it will be another late night,” he said, “but have my supper waiting just in case.”
    “I will,” I promised.
    In the hall I helped him into his coat and put the white silk scarf about his neck.
    “You need that,” I said. “This horrible wind cuts right through you.”
    He smiled indulgently at me, pretending to laugh at my coddling; but I knew he liked it.
    Bates, the coachman, had brought the carriage round from the mews and was waiting for him; the horse was pawing the ground impatiently.
    I went down the four steps with him to the carriage door; he turned to me to smile as he prepared to get in. Then it happened. I heard the loud explosion. I saw the look of surprise on my father’s face. The blood was spurting over his coat, staining the white silk scarf which I had just a few moments before put round his neck.
    Then I saw the man standing there … the gun in his hand.
    My father swayed toward me. I put out my hands and held him as slowly he slipped to the ground.
    I knelt beside him and looked about me