e," he answered.

"Shallow around the edges?"

"Quite."

"Then he knew we were after him," Groom said.

Rawlins nodded and ran his light along the shore. A few yards to the
right a ledge of smooth rock stretched from the water to a grove of pine
trees. The detective arose and turned off his light.

"He's blocked us," he said. "He knew he wouldn't leave his marks on the
rocks or the pine needles. No way to guess his direction now."

Doctor Groom cleared his throat. With a hesitant manner he recited the
discovery of the queer light in the deserted house, its unaccountable
disappearances their failure to find its source.

"I was thinking," he explained, "that Paredes alone saw the light give
out. It was his suggestion that he go to the front of the house to
investigate. This path might be used as a short cut to the deserted
house. The rendezvous may have been there."

Rawlins was interested again.

"How far is it?"

"Not much more than a mile," Groom answered.

"Then we'll go," the detective decided. "Show the way."

Groom in the lead, they struck off through the woods. Bobby, who walked
last, noticed the faint messengers of dawn behind the trees in the east.
He was glad. The night cloaked too much in this neighbourhood. By
daylight the empty house would guard its secret less easily. Suddenly he
paused and stood quite still. He wanted to call to the others, to point
out what he had seen. There was no question. By chance he had
accomplished the task that had seemed so hopeless yesterday. He had found
the spot where his consciousness had come back momentarily to record a
wet moon, trees straining in the wind like puny men, and a figure in a
mask which he had called his conscience. He gazed, his hope retreating
before an unforeseen disappointment, for with the paling moon and the
bent trees survived that very figure on the discovery of whose nature he
had built so vital a hope; and in this bad light it conveyed to him an
appearance nearly human. Through the underbrush the trunk of a tree
shattered by some violent storm mocked him with its illusion. The dead
leaves at the top were like cloth across a face. Therefore, he argued,
there had been no conspiracy against him. Paredes was clean as far as
that was concerned. He had wandered about the Cedars alone. He had opened
his eyes at a point between the court and the deserted house.

Rawlins turned back suspiciously, asking why he loitered. He continued
almost ind