I went over the house, and nothing can express my mystification.  There was no sign of disorder, but, on the contrary, the rooms were unusually clean and pleasant.  I found fires laid, ready for lighting; three bedrooms prepared with a luxury quite foreign to Northmour’s habits, and with water in the ewers and the beds turned down; a table set for three in the dining-room; and an ample supply of cold meats, game, and vegetables on the pantry shelves.  There were guests expected, that was plain; but why guests, when Northmour hated society?  And, above all, why was the house thus stealthily prepared at dead of night? and why were the shutters closed and the doors padlocked?

I effaced all traces of my visit, and came forth from the window feeling sobered and concerned.

The schooner yacht was still in the same place; and it flashed for a moment through my mind that this might be the “Red Earl” bringing the owner of the pavilion and his guests.  But the vessel’s head was set the other way.

II

I returned to the den to cook myself a meal, of which I stood in great need, as well as to care for my horse, whom I had somewhat neglected in the morning.  From time to time I went down to the edge of the wood; but there was no change in the pavilion, and not a human creature was seen all day upon the links.  The schooner in the offing was the one touch of life within my range of vision.  She, apparently with no set object, stood off and on or lay to, hour after hour; but as the evening deepened, she drew steadily nearer.  I became more convinced that she carried Northmour and his friends, and that they would probably come ashore after dark; not only because that was of a piece with the secrecy of the preparations, but because the tide would not have flowed sufficiently before eleven to cover Graden Floe and the other sea quags that fortified the shore against invaders.

All day the wind had been going down, and the sea along with it; but there was a return toward sunset of the heavy weather of the day before.  The night set in pitch dark.  The wind came off the sea in squalls, like the firing of a battery of cannon; now and then there was a flaw of rain, and the surf rolled heavier with the rising tide.  I was down at my observatory among the elders, when a light was run up to the masthead of the schooner, and showed she was closer in than when I had last seen her by the dying daylight.  I concluded that this must be a signal to Northmour’s associates on shore; and, stepping forth into the links, looked around me for something in response.