He took the lantern, trimmed it, and passed into the passage.
"Good-night," he said; "you may shut the door."
The door slammed to swiftly, cutting off the sound of the men's voices, and the captain proceeded on his weird and ghostly way.
The passage was wider and higher, and the road not so painfully uncomfortable as that by which they had reached the cliffs.
He hurried on, and found himself more quickly than he had expected at the end of the long passage, which was terminated by a small door.
A bar of iron extending crossways protected it outside, and the long pin projecting inside fastened it.
The captain thrust the pin through and the door opened.
To his surprise, a gush of warm but pure air greeted him, and with a feeling of extreme satisfaction he knew that he was once more above ground.
Before the door was a large round bush, which effectually concealed it from observation.
Pushing the bush aside with some difficulty the captain looked out and saw that he was in a portion of the disused garden nearest the house.
With a thrill of delight he extinguished the flickering flame in the lantern and pushed his way through the bush, taking care to replace the disturbed branches.
Then he lit his cigar, and with his hands in his pockets, sauntered on, preoccupied, and was somewhat startled by a footstep and a sudden sensation of some one's hands at his throat.
Before he could realize the situation he was on his back.
With an exclamation deep and low, he threw up his arms and struggled with his assailant.
In a moment he had regained his feet and there the advantage was lost again, for the assailant pinned him to the wall of the house, and, in a stern voice, inquired:
"What!" exclaimed the captain, as the familiar tones smote his ear, "what! Leicester Dodson!"
"Captain Howard Murpoint!" exclaimed Leicester, for it was he, dropping his grasp from the captain's arm and staring in the dim light.
The captain shook himself and glared with an evil hatred at the stalwart figure.
"You are late, Mr. Dodson, and pugilistic."
"You are late," said Leicester, utterly ignoring the latter part of the speech, and speaking in a stern and suspicious tone. "You are out late, and if there is any excuse for my attack, that and the fact of a man's figure prowling round the house at such an unwonted hour must supply it."