“Look,” said he, pausing.

A couple of steps more brought me out of the foliage.  The light of the morning lay cold and clear over that well-known scene.  The pavilion was but a blackened wreck; the roof had fallen in, one of the gables had fallen out; and, far and near, the face of the links was cicatrized with little patches of burned furze.  Thick smoke still went straight upward in the windless air of the morning, and a great pile of ardent cinders filled the bare walls of the house, like coals in an open grate.  Close by the islet a schooner yacht lay to, and a well-manned boat was pulling vigorously for the shore.

“The ’Red Earl’!” I cried.  “The ‘Red Earl’ twelve hours too late!”

“Feel in your pocket, Frank.  Are you armed?” asked Northmour.

I obeyed him, and I think I must have become deadly pale.  My revolver had been taken from me.

“You see, I have you in my power,” he continued.  “I disarmed you last night while you were nursing Clara; but this morning—­here—­take your pistol.  No thanks!” he cried, holding up his hand.  “I do not like them; that is the only way you can annoy me now.”

He began to walk forward across the links to meet the boat, and I followed a step or two behind.  In front of the pavilion I paused to see where Mr. Huddlestone had fallen; but there was no sign of him, nor so much as a trace of blood.

“Graden Floe,” said Northmour.

He continued to advance till we had come to the head of the beach.

“No farther, please,” said he.  “Would you like to take her to Graden House?”

“Thank you,” replied I; “I shall try to get her to the minister at Graden Wester.”

The prow of the boat here grated on the beach, and a sailor jumped ashore with a line in his hand.

“Wait a minute, lads!” cried Northmour; and then lower and to my private ear, “You had better say nothing of all this to her,” he added.

“On the contrary!” I broke out, “she shall know everything that I can tell.”

“You do not understand,” he returned, with an air of great dignity.  “It will be nothing to her; she expects it of me.  Good-by!” he added, with a nod.

I offered him my hand.

“Excuse me,” said he.  “It’s small, I know; but I can’t push things quite so far as that.  I don’t wish any sentimental business, to sit by your hearth a white-haired wanderer, and all that.  Quite the contrary:  I hope to God I shall never again clap eyes on either one of you.”

“Well, God bless you, Northmour!” I said heartily.

“Oh, yes,” he returned.

He walked down the beach; and the man who was ashore gave him an arm on board, and then shoved off and leaped into the bows himself.  Northmour took the tiller; the boat rose to the waves, and the oars between the tholepins sounded crisp and measured in the morning air.

They were not yet half way to the “Red Earl,” and I was still watching their progress, when the sun rose out of the sea.