distance a vessel, with lights on board, lying perfectly still at anchor
in a sheltered curve of the bold rude shore. The policeman pointed to the
vessel.

"The yacht, sir; the wind will be in her favour if she sails tonight."

We quickened our pace as well as the nature of the path would permit, left
the huts behind us, and about a mile farther on came to a solitary house,
larger than, from the policeman's description of Margrave's lodgement, I
should have presupposed: a house that in the wilder parts of Scotland
might be almost a laird's; but even in the moonlight it looked very
dilapidated and desolate. Most of the windows were closed, some with
panes broken, stuffed with wisps of straw; there were the remains of a
wall round the house; it was broken in some parts (only its foundation
left). On approaching the house I observed two doors,--one on the side
fronting the sea, one on the other side, facing a patch of broken ground
that might once have been a garden, and lay waste within the enclosure of
the ruined wall, encumbered with various litter; heaps of rubbish, a
ruined shed, the carcass of a worn-out boat. This latter door stood wide
open,--the other was closed. The house was still and dark, as if either
deserted, or all within it retired to rest.

"I think that open door leads at once to the rooms Mr. Margrave hires; he
can go in and out without disturbing the other inmates. They used to
keep, on the side which they inhabit, a beer-house, but the magistrates
shut it up; still, it is a resort for bad characters. Now, sir, what
shall we do?

"Watch separately. You wait within the enclosure of the wall, hid by
those heaps of rubbish, near the door; none can enter but what you will