unlucky
Easter Monday. (The deuce curl his hair for doing it!) I never forgave
him till I heard of that fine bit of play with Polkinghorn. Yes! he
must have known me."

Lee lit the fire, while Tom, blowing out the candles, drew the
curtains, so that any one outside could not see into the room.
Nevertheless, he left the French window open, and then went outside,
and secured all the dogs in the dog-house.

The night was wonderfully still and dark. As he paused before entering
the house, he could hear the bark falling from the trees a quarter of a
mile off, and the opossums scratching and snapping little twigs as they
passed from bough to bough. Somewhere, apparently at an immense
distance, a morepork was chanting his monotonous cry. The frogs in the
creek were silent even, so hot was the night. "A good night for
watching," said he to Lee when he came in. "Lie you down; I'll take the
first watch."

They blew out the candle, and Lee was in the act of lying down, when he
arrested himself, and held up his finger to Tom.

They both listened, motionless and in silence, until they could hear
the spiders creeping on the ceiling. There it was again! A stealthy
step on the gravel.

Troubridge and Lee crouched down breathless. One minute, two, five, but
it did not come again. At length they both moved, as if by concert, and
Lee said, "'Possum."

"Not a bit," said Troubridge; and then Lee lay down again, and slept in
the light of the flickering fire. One giant arm was thrown around his
head, and the other hung down in careless grace; the great chest was
heaved up, and the head thrown back; the seamed and rugged features
seemed more stern and marked than ever in the chiaroscuro; and the
whole man was a picture of reckless strength such as one seldom sees.
Tom had dozed and had awoke again, and now sat thinking, "What a
terrible tough customer that fellow would be!" when suddenly he
crouched on the floor, and, reaching out his hand, touched Lee, who
woke, and silently rolled over with his face towards the window.

There was no mistake this time--that was no opossum. There came the
stealthy step again; and now, as they lay silent, the glass-door was
pushed gently open, showing the landscape beyond. The gibbous moon was
just rising over the forest, all blurred with streaky clouds, and
between them and her light they could see the figure of a man, standing
inside the room.

Tom could wait no longer. He started up, and fell head