“A miracle!” he gasped.  “There is nothing there.”

“There was something dark, I fancied, upon the strip of beach, sir,” Robert ventured.

“I thought so too.  It was a tarred plank of timber.”

“Then the tide must have reached him.”

Tallente rose to his feet and looked over.

“The sea alone knows,” he said.  “For the first time, though, Robert, I feel inclined to agree with the newspapers, who speak of the strange disappearance of the Honourable Antimony Palliser.  Could any man go backwards over that palisading, do you think, and save his life?”

Robert shook his head.

“Miracles can’t happen, sir,” he muttered.

“Nevertheless,” Tallente said, a little gloomily, “the sea never keeps what the land gives it.  My fate will rest with the tides.”

Robert suddenly gripped his master’s arm.  The moon had disappeared underneath a fragment of cloud and they stood in complete darkness.  Both men listened.  From one of the paths which led through the grounds from the beach, came the sound of muffled footsteps.  A startled owl flew out and wheeled over their heads with a queer little cry.

“Who’s that in the grounds, Robert?” Tallente demanded.

“I’ve no idea, sir,” the latter replied, his voice shaking.  “The cottage is empty.  The boy went home—­I saw him start off.  There is no one else about the place.”

Nevertheless, the footsteps came nearer.  By and by, through the trees, came the occasional flash of an electric torch.  Robert turned towards the house but Tallente gripped him by the arm.

“Stop here,” he muttered.  “We couldn’t get away.  Any one would hear our footsteps along this flinty path.  Besides, there is the rope.”

“It’s someone else searching!” Robert whispered hoarsely.

The light grew nearer and nearer.  A little way below, the path branched to the right and the left.  To the left it encircled the tennis lawn and led to the Manor or back to the road.  The path to the right led to the little lookout upon which the two men were standing.  The footsteps for a moment hesitated.  Then the light flashed out and approached.  Whoever the intruder might be, he was making his way directly towards them.  Tallente shrugged his shoulders.

“We must see this through, Robert,” he said.  “We were in a tighter corner at Ypres, remember.  Keep as quiet as you can.  Now, then.”

Tallente flashed on his own torch.

“Who’s there?” he asked sternly.

There was no answer.  The torch for a moment remained stationary, then it began again to advance.

“What are you doing in my grounds?” Tallente demanded.  “Who are you?”

A shape loomed into distinctness.  A bulky man in dark clothes came into sight.

“I am Gillian—­Inspector Gillian.  What are you doing out here, Mr. Tallente?”

Tallente laughed a little scornfully.