At first they were not sure; it might be imagination. In the misty and uncertain light figures seemed to rise out of the pale yellow sands and to vanish into the dusky blue of the sea. But at the same moment they realised that there was some one there and that he was waiting for them; they recognised the brown jacket, the cloth cap, the square, prosperous figure. The really curious thing was that Maradick had had his eyes fixed on the sand in front of him, but he had seen no one coming. The figure had suddenly materialised, as it were, out of the yellow evening dusk. It was beyond doubt Mr. Andreas Morelli. He was the same as he had been a week ago. There was no reason why he should have changed, but Maradick felt as though he had been always, from the beginning, the same. It was not strange that he had not changed since last week, but it was strange that he had not changed, as Maradick felt to be the case, since the very beginning of time; he had always been like that. He greeted Tony now with that beautiful smile that Maradick had noticed before; it had in it something curiously intimate, as though he were referring to things that they both had known and perhaps done. Tony’s greeting was eager and, as usual with him, enthusiastic. Morelli turned to Maradick and gravely shook hands. “I am very pleased to see you again, sir,” he said. “It is a most wonderful evening to be taking a stroll. It has been a wonderful day.” “It has been too good to be true,” said Tony; “I don’t think one ought ever to go indoors when the weather is like this. Are you coming back to the town, Mr. Morelli, or were you going farther along the beach?” “I should be very glad to turn back with you, if I may,” he said. “I promised to be back by half-past seven and it is nearly that now. You have never fulfilled your promise of coming to see me,” he said reproachfully. “Well,” said Tony, “to tell you the truth I was a little shy; so many people are so kind and invite one to come, but it is rather another thing, taking them at their word and invading their houses, you know.” “I can assure you I meant it,” said Morelli gravely. “There are various things that would interest you. I have quite a good collection of old armour and a good many odds and ends picked up at different times.” Then he added, “There’s no time like the present; why not come back and have supper with us now? That is if you don’t mind taking pot-luck.” Tony flushed with pleasure. “I think we should be delighted, shouldn’t we, Maradick? They’re quite used to our not coming back at the hotel.” “Thank you very much,” said Maradick. “It’s certainly good of you.” He noticed that what Punch had said was true; the ears were pointed and the lips sharp and thin. The dusk had swept down on them. The lights of the town rose in glittering lines one above the other in front of them; it was early dusk for an August evening, but the dark came quickly at Treliss.