the less, after a
time she was able to discern Lyttleton's figure kneeling on the sands
at the immediate foot of the cliff, a hundred feet or so to one side
of the steps. And while she watched he rose, stood for a little
staring out to sea, wasted a number of matches lighting a cigarette
(which seemed curious, in view of the unbroken calm) and moved on out
of sight beyond a shoulder of stone.

She waited fully ten minutes; but he did not reappear.

Then, retreating to her seat on the stone wall, she waited as long
again--still no sign of Lyttleton.

But something else marked that second period of waiting that intrigued
her no less than the mysterious actions of her beloved--this although
she could imagine no link between the two.

Some freak of chance drew her attention to a small, dark shape, with
one staring red eye, that was stealing quietly across the Sound in the
middle distance--of indefinite contour against the darkening waters,
but undoubtedly a motor-boat, since there was no wind to drive any
sailing vessel at its pace, or indeed at any pace at all.

While she watched it incuriously it came to a dead pause, and so
remained for several minutes. Then, deliberately, with infinitely
sardonic effect, it winked its single eye of red at her--winked
portentously three times.

She made nothing of that, and in her profound ignorance of all things
nautical might have considered it some curious bit of sea etiquette
had she not, the next instant, caught out of the corner of her eye the
sudden glow of a window lighted in the second story of Gosnold House.

As she turned in surprise the light went out. A pause of perhaps
twenty seconds ensued. Then the window shone out again--one in the
left wing, the wing at the end of which her bedchamber was located.
But when she essayed to reckon the rooms between it and her own it
turned black again, and after another twenty seconds once more shone
out and once more was lightless.

After this it continued stubbornly dark, and by the time Sally gave up
trying to determine precisely which window it had been, and turned her
gaze seaward again, the boat had vanished. Its lights, at least, were
no longer visible, and it was many minutes before the girl succeeded
in locating the blur it made on the face of the waters. It seemed to
be moving, but the distance was so great that she could not be sure
which way.

A signal--yes, obviously; but between whom and for what purpose?

Who w