as a clincher to a closed argument or an unwelcome truth. Captain
Clubbe rose as he spoke and intimated his intention of departing, by
jerking his head sideways at Monsieur de Gemosac, who, however, held
out his hand with a Frenchman's conscientious desire to follow the
English custom.

"I'll be getting home," said Clubbe, simply. As he spoke he peered
across the marsh toward the river, and Colville, following the
direction of his gaze, saw the black silhouette of a large lug-sail
against the eastern sky, which was softly grey with the foreglow of
the rising moon.

"What is that?" asked Colville.

"That's Loo Barebone going up with the sea-breeze. He has been down
to the rectory. He mostly goes there in the evening. There is a
creek, you know, runs down from Maiden's Grave to the river."

"Ah!" answered Colville thoughtfully, almost as if the creek and the
large lug-sail against the sky explained something which he had not
hitherto understood.

"I thought he might have come with you this evening," he added,
after a pause. "For I suppose everybody in Farlingford knows why we
are here. He does not seem very anxious to seek his fortune in
France."

"No," answered Clubbe, lifting his stony face to the sky and
studying the little clouds that hovered overhead awaiting the moon.
"No--you are right."