She was gone; there was a long yellow slit in the masonry once more; her light burnt faint and far within.
I retreated among some bushes and kept watch.
The moon was skimming beneath the surface of a sea of clouds: now the black billows had silver crests: now an incandescent buoy bobbed among them. O for enough light, and no more!
In the hall the high voices were more subdued. I heard the captain's tipsy laugh. My eyes fastened themselves upon that faint and lofty light, and on my heels I crouched among the bushes.
The flame moved, flickered, and shone small but brilliant on the very sill. I ran forward on tip-toe. A white flake fluttered to my feet. I secured it and waited for one word; none came; but the window was softly shut.
I stood in doubt, the treacherous moonlight all over me now, and once more the window opened.
“Go quickly!”
And again it was shut; next moment I was stealing close by the spot where I had knelt. I saw within once more.
Harris nodded in his chair. The nigger had disappeared. Rattray was lighting a candle, and the Portuguese holding out his hand for the match.
“Did you lock the gate, senhor?” asked Santos.