XIII felt the cold prickles up and down my spine, and it took me a second just to manage to turn and look that way too. I couldn’t see anything, and there was something there. I heard it then, the faint far-off scrunch on the oyster-shell road and the soft velvet throb that was a motor of some kind. I’m not a complete coward in town, but there in the country I certainly was, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so near screaming as I was at that moment, until I thought of the children upstairs. And I still couldn’t see anything, because of the light in the room that drew a sharp curtain in front of the frosty milky glow of the moonlight outside.
That’s when I slipped across in front of the growling dog and switched off the library lights. I could see then, and I saw the car, moving slowly, wi
