itself. Suppose Cayley had to make more than one journey that
night? He might come back to find them in the boat; one of them,
indeed, in the water. And if they decided to wait in hiding, on
the chance of Cayley coming back again, what was the least time
they could safely allow? Perhaps it would be better to go round
to the front of the house and watch for his return there, the
light in his bedroom, before conducting their experiments at the
pond. But then they might miss his second visit in this way, if
he made a second visit. It was difficult.

His eyes were fixed on the boat as he considered these things,
and suddenly, as if materialized from nowhere, Cayley was
standing by the boat. In his hand was a small brown bag.

Cayley put the bag in the bottom of the boat, stepped in, and
using an oar as a punt-pole, pushed slowly off. Then, very
silently, he rowed towards the middle of the pond.

He had stopped. The oars rested on the water. He picked up the
bag from between his feet, leant over the nose of the boat, and
rested it lightly on the water for a moment. Then he let go. It
sank slowly. He waited there, watching; afraid, perhaps, that it
might rise again. Antony began to count ....

And now Cayley was back at his starting-place. He tied up the
boat, looked carefully round to see that he had left no traces
behind him, and then turned to the water again. For a long time,
as it seemed to the watchers, he stood there, very big, very
silent, in the moonlight. At last he seemed satisfied. Whatever
his secret was, he had hidden it; and so with a gentle sigh, as