She was the culprit. Was Katrina Van Tassel not taking up residence with her, since she had rented that filthy spare room, and thus was she not listening to her constant flow of gossip? A scant few days ago she had frightened Katrina more than badly with her talk of child-devouring spirits that were ever increasing in number and lived wherever they desired; my desperate pleas had barely managed to motivate her to remain even then. Now they had no effect whatsoever.

Yes, Katrina was leaving at last. She sat quietly in the ricketiest of carriages whilst the coachman deposited her few belongings carelessly at her side. When Masbath had informed me of what she intended I had arrived here with all possible haste; now I realized that no amount of reasoning could induce her to halt the proceedings.

The carriage-door nearest her was wide open and I could easily make out her expression. Hers was a look of grim determination, of an iron resolve that I stood no chance against—and yet tears streamed down her fair cheeks and spilled upon her velvet dress. Even the ribbons with which she had tied her hair seemed to droop. Her voice shaking dreadfully, she said,

"I will hear no more. Mrs. Medwin has shown me certain things that convince me of her sincerity." She would not look at me. "It isn't safe here."

"What has she shown you?" said I, panicked beyond comprehension.

"I cannot tell you," she replied. "For your sake, perhaps I never will."

My despair knew no bounds. "Then how am I to—"

"Stay away," she interrupted, "from Mrs. Medwin. Promise me that you will, Ichabod. Please."

The coachman was grumbling audibly from his seat and he fiddled with his horse's reigns in a restless fashion. In a final attempt to end this nightmare, I said,

"I would willingly make such a promise, Katrina—if you will not leave me."

"There is no choice. I must go."

"Where?"

She hesitated, then said in a low voice, "I am returning to Sleepy Hollow."

I had not noticed Masbath; he stood at my side in a pitiable state of mourning, his hands clasped before him. Finding that I watched him, he fell apart entirely. His was an emotional breakdown that I never would have thought him capable of—and was greatly astonished to discover otherwise.

"Will we not see you again, Miss Van Tassel?" he asked, his voice choked.

Katrina made no response whatsoever; well, not an audible one at any rate. If she had made some gesture of farewell with one dainty hand, or perhaps even blown her two servants a kiss, I would not have seen it; my eyes were fixed upon the ground. I could not even bring myself to bid her goodbye as the carriage rattled past; my heart was in an awful state. I felt, strangely enough, as if I had been betrayed somehow; I felt as if Katrina had simply abandoned me, caring little whether she ever laid eyes on me again.

I know not how long I remained in that crowded street, people shoving me this way and that as they moved past and faithful Masbath standing nearby, sniffing every few seconds and with much enthusiasm, it seemed.

Ah—was this how the new century saw fit to begin? So be it.