On we walked, on and on for what seemed an interminable distance. It was quite moonless and only a few stars twinkled here and there through a veil of light clouds that had drifted up with the sunset. The grass underfoot was black, the sea was nearly as dark, and the inland country invisible. Once I remarked: "It's a curious thing that we haven't met any of our fellow watchers." "The beats are very long," she said, "and I'm afraid all the watchers don't keep at their posts all the time." "What; they take a nap now and then?" She seemed as though she were going to agree, and then to change her mind. "Oh, we shall meet some one very soon. I think father is taking this beat." But we met no one, and as we pursued our lonely way I began to think that here was quite a possible reason for my not having come upon one of these coast patrols two nights ago. Still, it was only a possible reason; the other alternative remained. And then, I know not how it was, but I began gradually to get a curious impression that _something_ was in the air, _something_ was going to happen. It is easy to say I only imagine now in the retrospect that I had this feeling. But I noted the sensation clearly and positively at the time. I strained my eyes, I looked this way and that, so strong did the feeling become. Once I thought for a moment I heard soft footsteps somewhere on the inland side and I stopped short then and listened, but when I stopped I heard nothing. It can only have been a few minutes after this that the figure at my side (which had been so silent that I had almost forgotten it was a girl, and a pretty girl too) stopped suddenly, and I stood still beside her. "Do you hear anything?" she asked, and there seemed to be a little catch in her breath. I listened and shook my head. I could see that she was gazing intently down at the beach. "Do you see anything?" I asked in a voice instinctively hushed. "No," she answered in the same low tone, "but I thought I heard something." Again I strained my ears, and this time I distinctly did hear something; it might have been a movement among the rocks below, or on the bank ahead of us. She said nothing more but she seemed to be peering down into the gloom that veiled the beach. "I'll go down and see what it is," I said. For an instant I thought she was going to demur, but she said nothing, and with a bold air I stepped off the turf and began to make my way down, first through loose boulders and then along a ledge below. I confess frankly that I felt a trifle less bold than I looked, especially when I discovered the hazardous nature of the going. I remember that the sky began to seem lighter by contrast, but that the rocks were sheer chaotic darkness.