CHAPTER II

TELLS OF THE NOCTURNAL LANDING FROM THE YACHT

I returned to the den to cook myself a meal, of which I stood in great
need, as well as to care for my horse, which I had somewhat neglected in
the morning. From time to time I went down to the edge of the wood; but
there was no change in the pavilion, and not a human creature was seen
all day upon the links. The schooner in the offing was the one touch of
life within my range of vision. She, apparently with no set object,
stood off and on or lay to, hour after hour; but as the evening deepened
she drew steadily nearer. I became more convinced that she carried
Northmour and his friends, and that they would probably come ashore
after dark; not only because that was of a piece with the secrecy of the
preparations, but because the tide would not have flowed sufficiently
before eleven to cover Graden Floe and the other sea quags that
fortified the shore against invaders.

All day the wind had been going down, and the sea along with it; but
there was a return towards sunset of the heavy weather of the day
before. The night set in pitch dark. The wind came off the sea in
squalls, like the firing of a battery of cannon; now and then there was
a flaw of rain and the surf rolled heavier with the rising tide. I was
down at my observatory among the elders, when a light was run up to the
mast-head of the schooner, and showed she was closer in than when I had
last seen her by the dying daylight. I concluded that this must be a
signal to Northmour's associates on shore; and, stepping forth into the
links, looked around me for something in response.

A small footpath ran along the margin of the wood, and formed the most
direct communication between the pavilion and the mansion-house; and as
I cast my eyes to that side I saw a spark of light, not a quarter of a
mile away, and rapidly approaching. From its uneven course it appeared
to be the light of a lantern carried by a person who followed the
windings of the path, and was often staggered and taken aback by the
more violent squalls. I concealed myself once more among the elders, and
waited eagerly for the new-comer's advance. It proved to be a woman; and
as she passed within half a rod of my ambush I was able to recognise the
features. The deaf and silent old dame who had nursed Northmour in his
childhood was his associate in this underhand affair.

I followed her at a little distance, taking advantage of the in