Monsignor looked up at the Victorian clock over the carved mantelpiece and glanced at his host. The young man's eyes met his own.
"It's twenty-five past nine," said Lord Southminster.
The Cardinal looked up. He had not spoken for three or four minutes, but otherwise had shown no signs of discomposure.
"And the last message was just after nine?" he said.
The other nodded.
"What time is the division expected?"
"Not before midnight. Three guns will be fired, as I said, your Eminence, as soon as the division has taken place. We shall know before my secretary will have time to cross the hall."
Again there was silence.
* * * * *
Outside the night was quiet. The village itself lay, spread out above the beach, a hundred feet below the windows, and the only sound was the steady lap and splash of the rollers upon the shingle. The place was completely protected by the Southminster estate from any encroachment of houses, and even the station itself lay half a mile away inland.