e along the sea-front. I took the
precaution of putting up my head and inspecting the place carefully
before climbing over the sea-wall, but I might as well have saved
myself the trouble. The marsh was quite deserted, and when I reached
the hut I found my little notice still pinned to the door, and no
trace of any one having paid me a visit in my absence.

I remained in the same state of splendid isolation for the rest of the
evening. There was no difficulty about keeping watch, for as soon as
the sun went down a large obliging moon appeared in the sky, lighting
up the marsh and the Tilbury road almost as clearly as if it were
day-time. I could have seen a rabbit a hundred yards off, let alone
anything as big and obvious as a Scotland Yard detective.

At about one in the morning I turned in for a couple of hours' rest.
I felt that if Sonia had gone straight to the authorities they would
have acted before this, while if she was sleeping on her wrath there
was no reason I shouldn't do the same. I had given up any expectation
of McMurtrie until the next morning.

I woke at half-past three, and resumed my vigil in the pure cool
twilight of early dawn. I watched the sun rise over the river, and
gradually climb up into a sky of pale blue and lemon that gave promise
of another radiantly fine day. There was scarcely a breath of wind
stirring, and everything was so deliciously quiet and peaceful that it
almost seemed as if the events of the last three years were merely the
memory of some particularly vivid nightmare.

"Almost," I say, for as a matter of fact I was never for a moment
under any such pleasant delusion. If I had been, I should have had
an early awakening, for at eight o'clock, just as I was thinking of
routing out something in the nature of breakfast, I saw a little black
dot advancing along the Tilbury road, which soon resolved itself into
the figure of my faithful Charles.

He struck off across the marsh and came up to the hut, where I was
standing at the door waiting for him.

"Two telegrams and a letter for you, sir," he said, producing them
from his bag. "They came this morning, sir."

With an assumption of leisurely indifference that I was very far from
feeling, I took them out of his hand. The letter was addressed in
McMurtrie's writing, but I put it aside for a moment in favour of the
two wires. The first was from Joyce.

"Saw L. late yesterday evening. He will act today. Agrees with my
suggestion