n
o'clock when he was disturbed. The sound of a footfall, hushed and
stealthy on the veranda, roused him with a start, and almost at the same
instant he became aware of a shadow that troubled the pool of moonlight,
the foreshortened shadow of a man's head and shoulders. He sat up,
tense, rigid with surprise and wonder, and stared at the silhouetted
body at pause just outside the window. The fellow was stooping to peer
in. Whether he could distinguish Whitaker in the shadows was debatable,
but he remained motionless through a long minute, as if fascinated by
the undeviating regard returned by Whitaker. Then the latter broke the
spell with a hasty movement. Through the feeling of surprised resentment
there had filtered a gnawing suspicion that he was acquainted with the
pose of that head and the set of those shoulders. Had Drummond hunted
him down to this isolate hiding-place? On the thought he leaped up, in
two strides slammed out through the door.

"I say!" he cried loudly. But he cried, apparently, to empty air. The
man was gone--vanished as strangely and as quietly as he had appeared.

Whitaker shut teeth on an oath and, jumping down from the veranda, cast
wildly about the bungalow without uncovering a single sign of the
trespasser. In transit from his chair to the door, he had lost sight of
the fellow for no more, certainly, than half a second; and yet, in that
absurdly scanty space of time, the trespasser had managed to effect an
absolute disappearance. No conjuring trick was ever turned more neatly.
There one instant, gone the next!--the mystery of it irritated and
perplexed more than did the question of identity. It was all very
plausible to suspect Drummond--but whither could Drummond have juggled
himself in the twinkling of an eyelash? That it was no trick of an idle
imagination, Whitaker was prepared to swear: he was positive he had seen
what he had seen. And yet.... It was, on the other hand, impossible to
say where in the plantation of pines the man might not then be skulking.
Whitaker instituted a narrow search, but fruitless.

Eventually pausing and glaring round the clearing in complete
bewilderment, he detected or else fancied a slight movement in the
shadows on the edge of the encompassing woodland. Instantly, heedless of
the risk he ran if the man were indeed Drummond and if Drummond were
indeed guilty of the assault now four nights old, Whitaker broke for the
spot. It proved to be the entrance to one