But that was impossible. Still, there was something familiar about her. Geoffrey felt quite sure that he had seen that graceful figure before. She stood up presently and Geoffrey no longer had any doubt.
It was Mrs. Mona May.
The injured man rose also. He staggered along on the arm of his companion and Geoffrey could with some difficulty see them enter the sitting room. He paused in some doubt as to his next move, but before he was called upon to decide, Mrs. May and the other native came out again.
Evidently they had left the injured man behind. Then they emerged into the road and started off rapidly toward the cliffs.
"Going some way by the pace they are walking," Geoffrey muttered, "and at the same time they must be back before daylight, or they would never have dared to leave that fellow at Jessop's. What a good thing I know the country."
Geoffrey followed at a respectful distance, his rubber shoes making no sound. For the time of year the night was intensely dark, which was in Geoffrey's favor. Also, with his close knowledge of the locality, he had no fear of making mistakes.
The couple were not more than fifty yards ahead of him. They had not the slightest idea they were being followed, seeing that they were talking earnestly and none too quietly in a language that was Greek to Geoffrey. Now and again he caught the low laugh that came from the woman's lips.
By and by the cliffs were reached, and here the two began to descend a path that would have been dangerous to unaccustomed feet even in the broad daylight. But the man seemed to know the way perfectly and the woman followed without hesitation. They came presently to the firm sand, fringed by the ebbing tide.
Then they turned to the right, pausing at length before a solid-looking expanse of cliff that stood right under Ravenspur Castle. One moment they loomed darkly against the brown rocks, the next minute they seemed to be swallowed up by the cliffs. They had entered the mouth of a cave.