“One less at Van Heldre’s, lad. The old man will be having his evening pipe, and the doors open. Nothing could be better. Half-past nine, mind, while they are at tea. It will be quite dark then.”
Harry was silent, and the two young men entered and sat down, their coming seeming to cast a damp on the little party, for the music was put aside and work taken up, Vine being busy with some notes of his day’s observations of the actions of a newly found mollusc.
Tea was brought in at about a quarter-past nine, and Pradelle rose and went to the window.
“What a beautiful night, Harry,” he said. “Coming for half an hour’s stroll before bed?”
“Don’t you want some tea?” said Harry, loudly.
“No. Do you?”
“No,” said Harry shortly; and he rose and went out, followed by his friend.
“You mean this then,” he said, as soon as they were out on the cliff.
“No; but you do. There is just time for it, so now go.”
Harry hesitated for a few minutes, and then strode off down toward the town, Pradelle keeping step with him, till they reached the street where a lane branched off, going round by the back of Van Heldre’s house, but on a higher level, a flight of steps leading down into the half garden, half yard, overlooked by the houses at the back, whose basements were level with Van Heldre’s first floor.