The houses, for the most part, were in darkness, save where here and there an open door silhouetted the shrouded figure of a woman who would whisper to him as he hurried past. A party of Swedish sailors were quarrelling under the hanging oil-lamp of an inn, the doors of which were being hastily shut and bolted. Edward passed unnoticed, and in a moment emerged on the broad cobbled wharf.
Here, doubtless with a view of favourably impressing arriving visitors, the Powers that Be proved more prodigal with illumination, and a row of arc lamps showed the misty forms of a few tramp steamers huddled up to the dock edge. A little knot of seamen and luggage touts stood looking out towards the open sea. From one of the boats a wheezy concertina was accompanying a rich tenor voice singing an old English ballad.
His friend, the harbour master, was not to be seen, but Edward learnt from one of the seamen that the Spanish boat was expected to be alongside in the course of half an hour. He could hear the syren booming dismally.
Edward Povey buried his chin more deeply between the storm-collars of his mackintosh and waited, pacing up and down in the raw, damp mist.
"_.... so, as I hardly expect you will be able to get a reply through to me, I had better make my own arrangements. At ten o'clock each night I will be in readiness and Teresa will be on hand to open the door to you on your giving the signal, Anna and I, in dear old Cornwall, used, when we became separated in any way, to call to each other by imitating the cry of the kestrel. I will wait for that signal here. You must remember that I have promised old Teresa that her husband will come to no harm ... I am well and in no danger, and having allayed your anxiety and eased my mind, I can wait quite happily till you come...._"
The captive had set forth at length the manner of her capture and the position of Casa Luzo. She had briefly touched upon the friendship for her shown by Teresa and how the old woman had discovered her secret. She impressed upon Edward to lay his plans well and not to spoil matters by undue haste.
"Casa Luzo," murmured the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer, "it lies nine or ten miles out on the Alcad..."
The boyish face flushed a little and his grace bent over Galva's letter.