He
told her he felt a little poorly, and sent her to the cupboard for the
brandy.
At a few minutes before twelve the next day Captain Wragge withdrew to
his post of observation, concealing himself behind a fishing-boat drawn
up on the beach. Punctually as the hour struck, he saw Noel Vanstone
approach North Shingles and open the garden gate. When the house door
had closed on the visitor, Captain Wragge settled himself comfortably
against the side of the boat and lit his cigar.
He smoked for half an hour--for ten minutes over the half-hour, by his
watch. He finished the cigar down to the last morsel of it that he could
hold in his lips. Just as he had thrown away the end, the door opened
again and Noel Vanstone came out.
The captain looked up instantly at Magdalen's window. In the absorbing
excitement of the moment, he counted the seconds. She might get from the
parlor to her own room in less than a minute. He counted to thirty, and
nothing happened. He counted to fifty, and nothing happened. He gave up
counting, and left the boat impatiently, to return to the house.
As he took his first step forward he saw the signal.
The blind was drawn up.
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