Pike had totally disappeared.
Mrs.Jones, partly through fright, partly in anger arising from a long-standing grievance, avowed the truth boldly: she had been listening at the parlour-shutters ever since she went out of the house ten minutes ago, and had been set upon by that wolf Pike.
"Set upon!" exclaimed the clerk, looking swiftly in all directions for the offender.
"I don't know what else you can call it, when a highway robber--a murderer, if all tales be true--steals round upon you without warning, and glares his eyes into yours," shrieked Mrs.Jones wrathfully.

"And if he wasn't barefoot, Gum, my eyes strangely deceived me.

I'd have you and Nancy take care of your throats." She turned into the house, to the best parlour, where the clerk's wife was sitting with a visitor, Mirrable.

Mrs.Gum, when she found what the commotion had been about, gave a sharp cry of terror, and shook from head to foot.
"On our premises! Close to our house! That dreadful man! Oh, Lydia, don't you think you were mistaken ?" "Mistaken!" retorted Mrs.Jones.

"That wild face isn't one to be mistaken: I should like to see its fellow in Calne.