By this time the carriage, much to my relief, was lost in the
darkness. We walked on for a little, side by side over the sand,
in silence. After a short while he said, in a voice still affected
by the emotion that his niece's state of health had awakened in
him,

'Do you stay here long, Mr. Sampson?'

'Why, no. I am going away to-night.'

'So soon? But business always holds you in request. Men like Mr.
Sampson are too important to others, to be spared to their own need
of relaxation and enjoyment.'

'I don't know about that,' said I. 'However, I am going back.'

'To London?'

'To London.'

'I shall be there too, soon after you.'

I knew that as well as he did. But I did not tell him so. Any
more than I told him what defensive weapon my right hand rested on
in my pocket, as I walked by his side. Any more than I told him
why I did not walk on the sea side of him with the night closing
in.

We left the beach, and our ways diverged. We exchanged goodnight,
and had parted indeed, when he said, returning,