here her grave, or what brought her to it.

The crescent moon gave little light, but Loo knew his way beneath the
stunted cedars and through the barricade of ilex drawn round the rectory
on the northern side. His eyes, trained to darkness, saw the shadowy
form of a man awaiting him beneath the cedars almost as soon as the door
was closed.

He went toward him, perceiving with a sudden misgiving that it was not
John Turner. A momentary silhouette against the northern sky showed that
it was Colville, come at last.

"Quick--this way!" he whispered, and taking Barebone's arm he led him
through the bushes. He halted in a little open space between the ilex
and the river-wall, which is fifteen feet high at the meeting of
the creek and the larger stream. "There are three men, who are not
Farlingford men, on the outer side of the sea-wall below the rectory
landing. Turner must have placed them there. I'll be even with him yet.
There is a large fishing-smack lying at anchor inside the Ness--just
across the marsh. It is the 'Petite Jeanne.' I found this out while you
were in there. I could hear your voices."

"Could you hear what he said?"

"No," answered Colville, with a sudden return to his old manner, easy
and sympathetic. "No--this is no time for joking, I can tell you that.
You have had a narrow escape, I assure you, Barebone. That man, the
Captain of the 'Petite Jeanne,' is well known. There are plenty
of people in France who want to get quietly rid of some family
encumbrance--a man in the way, you understand, a son too many, a
husband too much, a stepson who will inherit--the world is full of
superfluities. Well, the Captain of the 'Petite Jeanne' will take them a
voyage for their health to the Iceland fisheries. They are so far and so
remote--the Iceland fisheries. The climate is bad and accidents happen.
And if the 'Petite Jeanne' returns short-handed, as she often does, the
other boats do the same. It is only a question of a few entries in the
custom-house books at Fecamp. Do you see?"

"Yes," admitted Barebone, thoughtfully. "I see."

"I suppose it suggested itself to you when you were on board, and that
is why you took the first chance of escape."

"Well, hardly; but I escaped, so it does not matter."

"No," acquiesced Colville. "It doesn't matter. But how are we to get
out of this? They are waiting for us under the sea-wall. Is there a way
across the marsh?"

"Yes--I know a way. But where do you want to go