Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them. The unexpected twist—his disclosure to McClintock—had given Spurlock but temporary relief. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. “It was perhaps my fault. ‘It is, you understand, that Monsieur Charvill did not—how do you say in English?—having an eye to an eye—’ ‘Didn’t see eye to eye with the Vicomte Valade? That I can well believe. I’m glad 237 you came over. . Mike answered the door while still toweling his hands dry. Nobody could possibly find him now. If I am to have no other opportunity I will speak before them. And the hunter home from the hill. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house.
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