There was no moon and the night was cloudy, a fact which accounted for his unusual politeness towards a cypress of somewhat stately bearing which stood at one corner of the small lawn.

He replaced his hat hastily, and an apologetic remark concerning the lateness of his visit was never finished.

A trifle confused, he walked down the garden, peering right and left as he went, but without finding the object of his search.

Twice he paced the garden from end to end, and he had just arrived at the conclusion that Mr.Tasker had made a mistake when a faint sound high above his head apprised him of the true state of affairs.
He stood listening in amazement, but the sound was not repeated.
Ordinary prudence and a sense of the fitness of things suggested that he should go home; inclination suggested that he should seat himself in the deck-chair at the foot of the crow's-nest and await events.

He sat down to consider the matter.
Sprawling comfortably in the chair he lit his pipe, his ear on the alert to catch the slightest sound of the captive in the cask above.