ain and spray
beat every now and then upon the window. He turned back and examined
the carriage lamp.

"It is an awful night," I said. "I cannot offer you a bed unless you
will take mine, but I can bring rugs and a pillow to the fire if you
will lie there."

Then for the only time in my life I saw him hesitate. He looked out of
my uncurtained window into the night. Very often have I wondered what
thought it was that passed then through his brain.

"I thank you," he said; "the walk is nothing, and they will expect me at
Rowchester. You have pencil and paper. Write down what I tell
you.--Colonel Mostyn Ray, No. 17, Sussex Square. You have that? Good!
It is my address. Presently I think you will get tired of your life
here. Come then to me. I may be able to show you the way--"

"Out of the conservatory," I interrupted, smiling.

He nodded, and took up the lantern. To my surprise, he did not offer to
shake hands. Without another word he passed out into the darkness.

In my dreams that night I fancied that a strange cry came ringing to my
ears from the marshes--a long-drawn-out cry of terror, ending in a sob.
I was weary, and I turned on my side again and slept.

CHAPTER III

THE CRY IN THE NIGHT

"You'd be having company last night, sir?" Mrs. Hollings remarked
inquisitively. Mrs. Hollings was an elderly widow, who devoted two
hours of her morning to cleaning my rooms and preparing my breakfast.

"Some friends did call," I answered, pouring out the coffee.

"Friends! Good Samaritans I should call 'em," Mrs. Hollings declared,
"if so be as they left all the things I found here this morning. Why,
there's a whole chicken, to say nothing of tongue and biscuits, and
butter, and relishes, and savouries, the names of which isn't often
heard in this part of the world. There's wine, too, with gold paper
round the top, champagne wine, I do believe."

"Is the tide up this morning?" I asked.

"None to speak of," Mrs. Hollings answered, "though the road's been
washed dry, and the creeks are brimming. I've scarcely set foot in the
village this morning, but they're all a-talking about the soldier
gentleman the Duke brought down to the village hall last night. Might
you have seen him, sir?"

"Yes, I saw him," I answered.

"A sad shame as it was the night of your lecture, sir," the woman
babbled on, "for they were all crazy to hear him. My! the hall was
packed."

"Would you mind seeing to my room now, Mrs. Hollings?