For it was to her as if she looked upon the face of a dead man.
She stood still in the shadow of a weeping willow, arrested by that look, and watched him come slowly forth.
He moved heavily as one driven by Fate, pulling the stable door to after him.

This he turned to lock, then stooped, still with that face as of a death-mask, and deliberately extinguished his lantern.
Doris's heart jerked again at the action, and every pulse began to clamour.

Why did he put out the lantern before reaching the house?
The next moment she heard his footsteps, slow and heavy, coming towards her.

The path wound along a bank a couple of feet above the mill-stream.
He approached till in the darkness he had nearly reached her, then he stopped.
She thought he had discerned her, but the next moment she realized that he had not.

He was facing the water; he seemed to be staring across it.
And even as she watched he took another step straight towards it.
It was then that like a flashlight leaping from his brain to hers she realized what he was about to do.