re was more curiosity than
resentment in my heart. But war I certainly declared; and, by way of
preparation, I got out my revolver, and, having drawn the charges,
cleaned and reloaded it with scrupulous care. Next I became preoccupied
about my horse. It might break loose, or fall to neighing, and so betray
my camp in the Sea-Wood. I determined to rid myself of its
neighbourhood; and long before dawn I was leading it over the links in
the direction of the fisher village.

CHAPTER III

TELLS HOW I BECAME ACQUAINTED WITH MY WIFE

For two days I skulked round the pavilion, profiting by the uneven
surface of the links. I became an adept in the necessary tactics. These
low hillocks and shallow dells, running one into another, became a kind
of cloak of darkness for my enthralling, but perhaps dishonourable,
pursuit. Yet, in spite of this advantage, I could learn but little of
Northmour or his guests.

Fresh provisions were brought under cover of darkness by the old woman
from the mansion-house. Northmour and the young lady, sometimes
together, but more often singly, would walk for an hour or two at a time
on the beach beside the quicksand. I could not but conclude that this
promenade was chosen with an eye to secrecy; for the spot was open only
to the seaward. But it suited me not less excellently; the highest and
most accidented of the sand-hills immediately adjoined; and from these,
lying flat in a hollow, I could overlook Northmour or the young lady as
they walked.

The tall man seemed to have disappeared. Not only did he never cross the
threshold, but he never so much as showed face at a window; or, at
least, not so far as I could see; for I dared not creep forward beyond a
certain distance in the day, since the upper floor commanded the bottoms
of the links; and at night, when I could venture farther, the lower
windows were barricaded as if to stand a siege. Sometimes I thought the
tall man must be confined to bed, for I remembered the feebleness of his
gait; and sometimes I thought he must have gone clear away, and that
Northmour and the young lady remained alone together in the pavilion.
The idea, even then, displeased me.

Whether or not this pair were man and wife, I had seen abundant reason
to doubt the friendliness of their relation. Although I could hear
nothing of what they said, and rarely so much as glean a decided
expression on the face of either, there was a distance, almost a
stiffness, in the