"Did you let him?" I asked.
"Not me! I says to 'im I'd strict orders from Mr. Drayton that no one was to come inside the place. 'E offered me a couple o' quid the second time, but I told 'im wot 'e could do with it, and after that I reckon we understood each other. Any'ow, 'e didn't show up no more, not till 'e seed you an' the other gen'leman."
"There's a fairly simple explanation of all this," I said. "He wants to get hold of the island and turn it into a yachting club. He had made an offer to Mr. Drayton before I arrived."
Bascomb looked a little sceptical. "I ain't 'eard nothin' about that," he observed. "Anyway, 'e's a wrong 'un, sir; you can take my word for it."
"I daresay you're right," I said, lighting myself a cigar. "It doesn't make much difference, because I haven't the faintest intention of letting the place and I've told him so straight out. If that's all he's after we shan't be troubled with much more of his company." I got up from the table. "I think I'll have a stroll round before I turn in," I added. "You needn't bother about the front door; I'll lock that myself when I come back."
I walked through into the hall, where I found Satan stretched out luxuriously on the mat in front of the fireplace. He cocked an eye at me as I passed, and, seeing me pick up my cap from the table, rose slowly to his feet.
"Come along then," I said. "We'll take the air together if you feel that way."
The suggestion evidently appealed to him, for he followed me out through the porch, and side by side we sauntered down the gravel path which led to the landing-stage.
It was a beautiful night, with a half moon low down in the sky, and one or two large stars shining away in isolated splendour. As I came out from the shadow of the trees the loveliness of my surroundings filled me with a kind of enchantment, and, drawing in a deep breath, I stood for a moment in absolute stillness. Everything was silent, except for the faint whisper of the reeds. A dancing pathway of silver stretched away up the centre of the estuary, and beyond it, on either side, lay the black, irregular outline of the shore.
Crossing the open with Satan at my heels, I slowly made my way down to the edge of the water. My mind was full of my conversation with Bascomb, and, coming to a halt in the warm darkness, I stood there puffing meditatively at my cigar.