Mrs. Aylfendeane rose and went to the parlour window. ‘I can see nothing!’ she reported. ‘It is worse than last evening, I am sure of it.’
‘Tatterfoal,’ said Bess.
Mr. Aylfendeane looked at her. ‘The fog?’
‘Aye. Mr. Green said Tatterfoal brings it.’
‘He is out there somewhere, then,’ said Mrs. Aylfendeane. ‘I wonder what it is that he wants in these parts?’
Half an hour passed in a state of some tension. Bessie could not settle, for she was too well able to picture Tatterfoal in all his nightmarish glory marauding through the Wolds — and not, in all likelihood, very far away. Was Mr. Green out in the fog once again, chasing down his errant steed? Would he be any more successful at bringing him back under mastery, this time?
Soon afterwards there came a violent pounding upon the door,
