As luck would have it, I was already dressed, and in a blue-serge suit, which, if somewhat shabby, would be inconspicuous anywhere. I did at first think of changing my yachting shoes--which had tan uppers with gutta-percha soles--for black boots, but it occurred to me that the shoes would be extremely convenient for shadowing, and as the tan uppers made them look like the now common brown shoe, I decided to go as I was. “Can you wait here while one of my men and I row ashore?” I said to the messenger, tossing my yachting cap into an open locker and putting on the customary hard felt. “He’ll be fresher than you are, and I don’t want to lose a minute.” “Yes, sir; I’m in no hurry,” the man replied. “All right. Here’s something for yourself. Jump in, Brown. You take one oar and I’ll take the other. Make for the beach, just below the Royal Hotel. The tide is running in fast, and I shall get there quicker by boat than if you landed me at the pier and I walked. Put your back into it, and I ought to be ashore well inside a quarter of an hour.” Brown bent to with such will that, by means of our united efforts, I was at Going’s Oyster Bar within twenty minutes from receiving the message. Grant was sitting where he had a full view of the hotel opposite, but could not himself be seen from outside. He had his eyes upon the hotel when I entered, and, except for one quick glance at me, never took them off again, but motioned me with his hand to the chair beside him. No one was in the shop, so, without further ado, he began his story. “I came ashore last evening to post a letter,” he said, “but kept an eye on the cutter all the same, and, as it was a fine evening, strolled up and down the Esplanade before going back to turn in for the night. By-and-bye I saw a boat coming off from cutter, two men in it, and making for shore. Waited to see where they were going to land, and then hid behind bathing machine to shadow ’em. A man got out--looked as if he had reddish hair and beard--and the other one took dinghy back to cutter. Man with red beard went to station. It was past eleven, and there’d be no up train, so I supposed he’d be going on to Shoebury by the last down train just about due, and decided to go with him. Down train came in, but he turned as if he’d just come by it, and went to Royal Hotel. He couldn’t know me, so I followed, bold as brass. Heard him ask for bed, and I did same. His room was opposite mine, and I saw him go in. I didn’t go to bed all night lest I should oversleep. Peeped out at six and saw his boots outside, so he was still there evidently. Dressed and came down--boots still outside. Wouldn’t wait for breakfast--came out--slipped in here--sent note to you--had breakfast--paid bill, but said would wait, as friend was to join me, and here I am. He hasn’t come out yet. Wonder if there’s any way out from hotel at back? Great Scott! there he is! Is that your man?”