“贝博appWhy, it's Vicar!” she exclaimed.

Twenty-eight

I hurried down the village street. It was eleven o’clock, and at eleveno’clock on a Sunday night the whole village of St. Mary Mead might bedead. I saw, however, a light in a first floor window as I passed, and, real-izing that Hawes was still up, I stopped and rang the doorbell.

After what seemed a long time, Hawes’s landlady, Mrs. Sadler, labori-ously unfastened two bolts, a chain, and turned a key and peered out atme suspiciously.

“Why, it’s Vicar!” she exclaimed.

“Good evening,” I said. “I want to see Mr. Hawes. I see there’s a light inthe window, so he’s up still.”

“That may be. I’ve not seen him since I took up his supper. He’s had aquiet evening—no one to see him, and he’s not been out.”