Long after the camp had gone to bed, I lay on the pine-needles above the
brook, shielded from the wind by a break in the slope, and thought of the
strange happenings of that day. Presently the waning moon climbed
reluctantly from the waters, and the stream became mottled, black and
white, the trees tall blurs. The lake rose and fell with a mighty
rhythm, and the little brook hurried madly over the stones to join it.
One thought chased another from my brain.

At such times, when one's consciousness of outer things is dormant, an
earthquake might continue for some minutes without one realizing it. I
did not observe, though I might have seen from where I lay, the flap of
one of the tents drawn back and two figures emerge. They came and stood
on the bank above, under the tree which sheltered me. And I experienced
a curious phenomenon. I heard, and understood, and remembered the first
part of the conversation which passed between them, and did not know it.

"I am sorry to disturb you," said one.

"Not at all," said the other, whose tone, I thought afterwards, betokened
surprise, and no great cheerfulness.

"But I have had no other opportunity to speak with you."

"No," said the other, rather uneasily.

Suddenly my senses were alert, and I knew that Mr. Trevor had pulled the
detective out of bed. The senator had no doubt anticipated an easier
time, and he now began feeling for an opening. More than once he cleared
his throat to commence, while Mr. Drew pulled his scant clothing closer