She stopped, not knowing quite what to do next, for the street was deserted. With its windows blacked-out it seemed to be an abode of the dead. As she stood there, torn by indecision, she heard footsteps approaching. Hurrying towards them she came face to face with an old man; he was just turning into a cottage.
Frecks accosted him, trying to keep her tone casual. “Could you tell me where the village constable lives?” she asked.
The old man laughed shortly. “Lor’, miss, we ain’t got no police in here.”
“Where is the nearest?”
The old man thought for a moment. “I reckon as ’ow it ’ud be Constable Gaze, of Tedholme. This is on his beat.”
“Tedholme! But that’s miles away!” cried Frecks aghast.
“He’s the nearest, and I reckon you’d be lucky to find ’im at ’ome this time o’ night,” was th
