For now she wanted not herbs or herb tea, but a solid drink of rum—the black rum tonight, to settle her stomach and unaddle her brain after all the strange happenings. There was nothing more she could do, she said silently again just before the shouting penetrated her consciousness.

Hilda Cannon’s car jerked to a screeching stop even before she realized she had slammed her foot on the brake.

She backed up slowly, wide awake. What in the devil was Yarkie coming to!

Yes! Some kind of groaning, a strangling kind of sound, was issuing from the woods beside the Tinton house.

That man she had seen awhile ago!

That miserable no-­good had come out of the woods after his abominable act, and he had got at Blanche Tinton!

Grimly, Hilda Cannon snapped open her glove compartment and grabbed her gun. She was licensed after her constant complaints to the sheriff and selectmen about the rabbits and other nuisances in her gardens. She shot only occasionally, and then less to kill than to scare away with the noise, but now she was glad that the pistol was fully loaded. She would teach that despicable character to assault decent folks!

The woman hopped out of her car and moved cautiously into the shadows of the trees, gun extended. She half hoped the degenerate would come at her. She wouldn’t shoot to kill, no, she’d aim for his family jewels and hope he’d live a long life without them! Castration was the fate all rapists deserved!

She halted to listen for sounds of struggling. There was total quiet in the trees, except for a kind of sighing sound she couldn’t identify. To her ears, it was more a strange puffing noise than a hissing, and then it was what she could only think of as a sibilance. It was like the sound she had heard earlier, but no animal she ever knew made such a disturbance. The woman hid behind a great bay-­leaved willow her ancestors had planted. She could see that the Tintons had their house lights on, but there was no movement through any of the windows. If she knew Harvey Tinton, the man was sprawled drunk asleep upstairs after Stephen’s party. She had been invited, of course, but was too upset about her girls to go. But the scream had been a woman’s, and where was Blanche?

The disturbing noise became clearer, combined with a raking of leaves. It was exactly like a rake, she thought with amazement. Who would be in the woods cleaning at this hour? She moved forward stealthily, her jowls quivering over her gun.

Hilda Cannon’s eyes fell upon what they could not deal with, could not accept for translation to her brain.