CHAPTER XVIII.
"So glozed the Tempter, and his poison tuned; Into the heart of Eve his words made way, Though at the voice much marvelling." MILTON.
It was, probably, a species of presentiment, that induced Bluewater to send away the midshipman, when he saw the adherent of the dethroned house approaching.

Enough had passed between the parties to satisfy each of the secret bias of the other; and, by that sort of free-masonry which generally accompanies strong feelings of partisanship, the admiral felt persuaded that the approaching interview was about to relate to the political troubles of the day.
The season and the hour, and the spot, too, were all poetically favourable to an interview between conspirators.

It was now nearly dark; the head-land was deserted, Dutton having retired, first to his bottle, and then to his bed; the wind blew heavily athwart the bleak eminence, or was heard scuffling in the caverns of the cliffs, while the portentous clouds that drove through the air, now veiled entirely, and now partially and dimly revealed the light of the moon, in a way to render the scene both exciting and wild.

No wonder, then, that Bluewater, his visiter drawing near, felt a stronger disposition than had ever yet come over him to listen to the tale of the tempter, as, under all the circumstances, it would scarcely exceed the bounds of justice to call Sir Reginald.
"In seeking you at such a spot, and in the midst of this wild landscape," said the latter, "I might have been assured I should be certain of finding one who really loved the sea and your noble profession.

The Hall is a melancholy house, just at this moment; and when I inquired for you, no one could say whither you had strolled.