"Won't it be enough, if I am here _when_ you return?" she asked. When he came out on the piazza the rain had ceased, the clouds were gone, the temperature had fallen, and the stars were shining brightly in a winter sky. He strode quickly down the walk to the street and crossed it diagonally to his own gates. As he passed under the light, which hung near the entrance, a man walked from the shadow of the Clarendon grounds and accosted him. "Mr. Croyden, I believe?" he said. Croyden halted, abruptly, just out of distance. "Croyden is my name?" he replied, interrogatingly. "With your permission, I will accompany you to your house--to which I assume you are bound--for a few moments' private conversation." "Concerning what?" Croyden demanded. "Concerning a matter of business." "My business or yours?" "Both!" said the man, with a smile. Croyden eyed him suspiciously. He was about thirty years of age, tall and slender, was well dressed, in dark clothes, a light weight top-coat, and a derby hat. His face was ordinary, however, and Croyden had no recollection of ever having seen it--certainly not in Hampton. "I'm not in the habit of discussing business with strangers, at night, nor of taking them to my house," he answered, brusquely. "If you have anything to say to me, say it now, and be brief. I've no time to waste." "Some one may hear us," the man objected. "Let them--I've no objection." "Pardon me, but I think, in this matter, you would have objection." "You'll say it quickly, and here, or not at all," snapped Croyden. The man shrugged his shoulders. "It's scarcely a subject to be discussed on the street," he observed, "but, if I must, I must. Did you ever hear of Robert Parmenter? Oh! I see that you have! Well, the business concerns a certain letter--need I be more explicit?" "If you wish to make your business intelligible." The fellow shrugged his shoulders again. "As you wish," he said, "though it only consumes time, and I was under the impression that you were in a hurry. However: To repeat--the business concerns a letter, which has to do with a certain treasure buried long ago, on Greenberry Point, by the said Robert Parmenter. Do I make myself plain, now, sir?" "Your language is entirely intelligible--though I cannot answer for the facts recited." The man smiled imperturbably, and went on: "The letter in question having come into your possession recently, you, with two companions, spent three weeks encamped on Greenberry Point, ostensibly for your health, or the night air, or anything else that would deceive the Naval authorities. During which time, you dug up the entire Point, dragged the waters immediately adjoining--and then departed, very strangely choosing for it a time of storm and change of weather. My language is intelligible, thus far?" Croyden nodded--rather amused. Evidently, the thieves had managed to communicate with a confederate, and this was a hold-up. They assumed he had been successful.