hear our approach. However, the man is fortunately rather deaf,
and he was entirely preoccupied with what he was doing, crouching at
the window, candle in hand, his white, intent face pressed against
the pane, exactly as I had seen him two nights before.
The baronet is a man to whom the most direct way is the most natural.
He walked boldly into the room, demanding to know what Barrymore was
doing. The man stood up livid & trembling with horror. He protested
that he was checking that all the windows were fastened, but Sir Henry
would have none of it and demanded the truth. The fellow wrung his
hands miserably, admitted that he was holding a candle to the window
but would say no more. I took the candle from him, held it as he had
done, stared into the darkness, and then saw a tiny pin-point of yellow
light in the distance, When I moved my light, the other light moved
