He was quiet almost as a mouse. I had not heard him pass through the house as he went out, and I barely heard a sound now as he returned. But I heard enough to know that he had gone off to bed, and did not propose to pay me a visit. "What in Heaven's name did it mean?" I asked myself. A dozen wild and alarming theories flashed through my mind, and then at last I saw a ray of comfort. Perhaps this was only a rendezvous with Ashington, or some subordinate in his pay. It was not a very brilliant ray, for the more I thought over it, the more unlikely it seemed that a rendezvous should take place at that spot and in that inconvenient fashion, when there was nothing to prevent Ashington or his emissary from entering the house by the front door and holding their conversation in the parlour. However, it seemed absolutely the only solution, short of supposing that the house was watched, and so I accepted it for what it was worth in the meantime, and turned into bed. My sleep was very broken, and in the early morning I felt so wide awake, and my thoughts were so restlessly busy, that I jumped up and resolved to have another peep out of the skylight. Very quietly I climbed on the chair and put my head through again. There was the man, pacing slowly away from me, from the wall towards the highroad! I studied his back closely, and of two things I felt certain: he was not a sailor of any sort--officer or bluejacket--and yet he walked like a drilled man. A tall, square-shouldered fellow, in dark plain clothes, who walks with a short step and a stiff back--what does that suggest? A policeman of some sort--constable or detective, no doubt about that! At the road he turned, evidently to stroll back again, and down went my head, I did not venture to look out again, nor was there any need. I dressed quickly, and this time put on my uniform. This precaution seemed urgently--and ominously--called for! And then I slipped downstairs, went to the front hall, and up the other stairs, and quietly called "Tiel!" For I confess I was not disposed to sit for two or three hours waiting for information. At my second cry he appeared at his bedroom door, prompt as usual. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Who did you speak to last night?" I asked point-blank. He looked at me for an instant and then smiled. "Good heavens, it wasn't you, was it?" he inquired. "Me!" I exclaimed. "I wondered how you knew otherwise." I told him briefly. "And now tell me exactly what happened!" I demanded. "Certainly," said he quietly. "I went out, as I often do last thing at night, to see that the coast is clear, and this time I found it wasn't. A man jumped up from behind the wall just as you saw." "Who was he?" "I can only suspect. I saw him for an instant by the light of my torch, and then it seemed less suspicious to put it out." "I don't see that," I said.