Soon he assured himself that for the present, at any rate, the house was not being watched.
Armand presumably had not yet left a message for him here; but he might do so at any time now that he knew that his chief was in Paris and on the look-out for him.
Blakeney made up his mind to keep this house in sight.

This art of watching he had acquired to a masterly extent, and could have taught Heron's watch-dogs a remarkable lesson in it.

At night, of course, it was a comparatively easy task.

There were a good many unlighted doorways along the quay, whilst a street lamp was fixed on a bracket in the wall of the very house which he kept in observation.
Finding temporary shelter under various doorways, or against the dank walls of the houses, Blakeney set himself resolutely to a few hours' weary waiting.

A thin, drizzly rain fell with unpleasant persistence, like a damp mist, and the thin blouse which he wore soon became wet through and clung hard and chilly to his shoulders.
It was close on midnight when at last he thought it best to give up his watch and to go back to his lodgings for a few hours' sleep; but at seven o'clock the next morning he was back again at his post.
The porte-cochere of his former lodging-house was not yet open; he took up his stand close beside it.