May 21st, 1817, at 5:12 a.m.
At the Spout.
The number is eight.
Be Prompt - Be True.
Forget not the Pass. “A F E.”
“What do you want to do?” asked John, after reading the words on the card. “I can make but little meaning out of this.”
“Why, of course,” replied Marston, “I want you to go with me to this rendezvous. I am determined to find out the mystery. You see, there will be eight there—seven besides myself; at any rate, that is what I understand the card to mean. If anything be wrong, I can scarcely hope to contend successfully against seven men. At an hour so early, few upon whom I could call for help will be about—probably not one at that lonely place. Yet I am determined, at all hazards, to solve the mystery. If you think there is too much risk in the affair, John, I will go by myself.”
“As to that matter,” said John, “you know that I don’t care about the risk, as you call it; so that if you are determined to go I will accompany you. But the affair may be only a joke; and I don’t wish to do anything that will make me the subject of laughter.”
“It may be a joke to try my courage,” observed Marston. “In any view of the case,” he continued, after a pause, “I am determined to make the venture.”
“And I shall accompany you,” said John. “The place designated, I suppose, is the Spout on Saint Leonard’s Creek?”
“Of course it is,” was the answer. “There is no other place in this neighbourhood called the Spout.”
“But my going with you,” said John, reflectively, “may be the very cause of danger to you, since I have received no card of invitation. By the way, what is that piece of paper on the floor behind you near the door. Bless my life!” he continued, picking up the paper; “it is addressed to me, and contains, word for word, a card like the one addressed to you.”
“You will go now, I suppose, unhesitatingly,” said Captain Marston.
“Certainly,” was the reply. “But I had better awaken one of the servants, and leave a message for the family.”