"I think you’d better turn in, old man," said Warrender. "It’s your last watch to-night. We none of us got much sleep last night, and that crack on the head----"
"I’m cracked. All right--wake me at two-twenty."
He withdrew into the tent. His companions, tired though they were, resolved to keep each other company, and patrol the neighbourhood of the camp till it was time to awaken Pratt. Hour after hour passed. Nothing disturbed them. The wind increased to the force of half a gale, and the sound from the ruins persisted with scarcely a variation of pitch. When two-twenty came they agreed to let Pratt sleep on, and kept vigil until the eastern sky was streaked with dawn.
"D’you hear the sound?" asked Warrender, suddenly.
"No; it’s stopped. But the wind is higher than ever," Armstrong replied.
"That’s queer. The wind is in the same direction, too. Darkness and light oughtn’t to make any difference."
"Perhaps it has blown the old chimney-pot clean off the roof. I’ll go down and have a look presently. I’m dog-tired. We might take a couple of hours’ sleep now, don’t you think?"
About eleven o’clock next morning Warrender and Pratt landed from the motor-boat at the ferry, and, inquiring of the ferryman the way to Mr. Crawshay’s house, struck up the hilly road that ran westward from the right bank of the river. Mr. Crawshay, it was true, had invited them to make straight for the house across the fields; but they had decided that it would be more becoming, on this first visit, to observe the customary forms.
The house stood amid well-kept grounds, about as far west of the river as Mr. Pratt’s was in the opposite direction.
The apple-cheeked maid-servant who answered their ring announced that her master was out, and would not return till the afternoon. Disappointed, they were leaving when Lilian Crawshay, who had recognised Warrender’s voice as she descended the stairs, called to them.
"You wanted to see my father, Mr. Warrender?" she asked, as they turned back.
"Yes; I’m sorry he’s out, but we’ll call again this afternoon."
"What a pity, when you have so far to go! Can’t I give him a message? Won’t you come in and see Mother?"
"It’s very good of you, but we have some shopping to do in the village, or Armstrong will get no lunch. It will be no trouble to come again. We get up and down very quickly in the motor-boat."