As I started to go straight on, there was a sort of rustling behind me. Some black figure seemed to vanish from me. Whoever the man was that had brought me the clothes, he had vanished, just as an Indian will vanish into grass six inches high. Thinking over my strange adventures, I think that that changing of my clothes in the night was almost the most strange of all. It was so eerie, that he should be there at all, a part of Mr. Jermyn's plan, fitting into it exactly, though undreamed of by me. Would indeed that all Mr. Jermyn's plans had carried through so well. But it was not to be. One ought not to grumble. A few steps farther on, I came to a public square, on one side of which (quite close to where I stood) was a wharf, crowded with shipping. I had hardly expected the sea to be so near, somehow, but seeing it like that I naturally stopped to look for the ship which was to carry me. The only barquentine among the ships lay apart from the others, pointing towards the harbour entrance. She seemed to be a fine big vessel, as far as I could judge in that light. I lingered there for some few minutes, looking at the ships, wondering why it was that Mr. Jermyn had not met me. I was nervous about it. My nerves were tense from all the excitement of the night. One cannot stand much excitement for long. I had had enough excitement that night to last me through the week. As I stood looking at the ships, I began to feel a horror of the wharf-side. I felt as though the very stones of the place were my enemies, lying in wait for me. I cannot explain the feeling more clearly than that. It was due probably to the loneliness of the great empty square, dark as a tomb. Then, expecting Mr. Jermyn, but failing to meet with him, was another cause for dread. I thought, in my nervousness, that I should be in a fine pickle if any enemies made away with Mr. Jermyn, leaving me alone, in a strange land, with only a few silver pieces in my pocket. Still, Mr. Jermyn was long in coming. My anxiety was almost more than I could bear.