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 toward 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 masthead 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 newcomer's advance. It proved to be a woman; and, as she passed
within half a rod of my ambush, I was able to recognize 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 innumerable