"Ah! You look tired, and I am keeping you up."
Hawke drew his watch from his pocket.
"By Jove, it's past eleven!"
He rose from the sofa and took his hat.
"Are you going?" asked Gordon.
"Yes. Good night!"
Gordon went to the door.
"Don't you bother to come out!" cried Hawke quickly.
But Gordon lifted the latch and stepped out into the porch. Instantly Hawke slipped by him and hurried across the little garden to the gate. He looked eagerly up and down the lane, but there was nothing to be seen. The night was moonless and cloudy, with a cold wind blowing from the north.
"Good night!" he repeated as Gordon joined him. "It's cold out here."