All was going on as usual, and as he passed the "Blue Lion" he saw the usual little knot of idlers collected at the bar.
Among the voices he could distinguish that of Jem Starling's raised in turbulent tones.
Then he passed down the street to the beach.
The fishermen were busy with their nets, and old Job, the carrier, stood, with pipe in mouth, looking on.
The men touched their caps, and Job gave him a rough, kindly good-day.
Ten minutes afterward, and before he was scarcely out of sight, Captain Murpoint came down the path, sauntering very much after Leicester's fashion, with a Bengal cheroot in his mouth.
With his placid smile upon his face he sauntered down the beach.
"Well, my men," he said, "good night's fishing? Beautiful morning," and then passed on.
But as he passed Job he whispered in his ear:
"Meet me at sunset behind the chapel. There is danger."