Moonfleet beach, nor yet stow the liquor in the vault; so I have told the Bonaventure to put her nose into this bay to-morrow afternoon, that Maskew may see her well, and then to lie out again to sea, as she has done a hundred times before. But instead of waiting in the offing, she will make straight off up-Channel to a little strip of shingle underneath Hoar Head." I nodded to show I knew the place, and he went on: "Men used to choose that spot in good old times to beach a cargo before the passage to the vault was dug; and there is a worked-out quarry they called Pyegrove's Hole, not too far off upon the down, and choked with brambles, where we can find shelter for a hundred kegs. So we'll be under Hoar Head at five to-morrow morn with the pack-horses. I wish we could be earlier, for the sun rises thereabout, but the tide will not serve before."
It was at that moment that I felt a cold touch on my shoulders, as of the fresh air from outside, and thought besides I had a whiff of salt seaweed from the beach. So round I looked to see if door or window stood ajar. The window was tight enough, and shuttered to boot, but the door was not to be seen plainly for a wooden screen, which parted it from the parlour, and was meant to keep off draughts. Yet I could just see a top corner of the door above the screen, and thought it was not fast. So up I got to shut it, for the nights were cold; but coming round the corner of the screen found that 'twas closed, and yet I could have sworn I saw the latch fall to its place as I walked towards it. Then I dashed forward, and in a trice had the door open, and was in the street. But the night was moonless and black, and I neither saw nor heard
