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.
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