‘How so?’ I asked, wavering between my distrust and my curiosity.

’Well, to be frank with you’—­and never did a man look less frank as he spoke—­’I am waiting here for some of those people with whom I do business; but in some way they have not come yet, and I am inclined to take a walk round the marsh on the chance of finding them, if they have lost their way.  On the other hand, it would be exceedingly awkward for me if they were to come here in my absence and imagine that I am gone.  I should take it as a favour, then, if you would remain here for half an hour or so, that you may tell them how matters stand if I should chance to miss them.’

The request seemed reasonable enough, and yet there was that same oblique glance which told me that it was false.  Still, I could not see what harm could come to me by complying with his request, and certainly I could not have devised any arrangement which would give me such an opportunity of satisfying my curiosity.  What was in that wide stone chimney, and why had he clambered up there upon the sight of me?  My adventure would be inconclusive indeed if I did not settle that point before I went on with my journey.

‘Well,’ said he, snatching up his black broad-brimmed hat and running very briskly to the door, ’I am sure that you will not refuse me my request, and I must delay no longer or I shall never get my business finished.’  He closed the door hurriedly behind him, and I heard the splashing of his foot-steps until they were lost in the howling of the gale.

And so the mysterious cottage was mine to ransack if I could pluck its secrets from it.  I lifted the book which had been left upon the table.  It was Rousseau’s ’Social Contract’—­excellent literature, but hardly what one would expect a trader to carry with him whilst awaiting an appointment with smugglers.  On the fly-leaf was written ’Lucien Lesage,’ and beneath it, in a woman’s hand, ‘Lucien, from Sibylle.’  Lesage, then, was the name of my good-looking but sinister acquaintance.  It only remained for me now to discover what it was which he had concealed up the chimney.  I listened intently, and as there was no sound from without save the cry of the storm, I stepped on to the edge of the grate as I had seen him do, and sprang up by the side of the fire.

It was a very broad, old-fashioned cottage chimney, so that standing on one side I was not inconvenienced either by the heat or by the smoke, and the bright glare from below showed me in an instant that for which I sought.  There was a recess at the back, caused by the fall or removal of one of the stones, and in this was lying a small bundle.  There could not be the least doubt that it was this which the fellow had striven so frantically to conceal upon the first alarm of the approach of a stranger.  I took it down and held it to the light.  It was a small square of yellow glazed cloth tied round with white tape.  Upon my opening it a number of letters