Creeping in its shadow I reached a point whence I could look straight through the uncurtained window.
There were only two men in the room, Sir Henry and Stapleton.

They sat with their profiles towards me on either side of the round table.

Both of them were smoking cigars, and coffee and wine were in front of them.
Stapleton was talking with animation, but the baronet looked pale and distrait.

Perhaps the thought of that lonely walk across the ill-omened moor was weighing heavily upon his mind.
As I watched them Stapleton rose and left the room, while Sir Henry filled his glass again and leaned back in his chair, puffing at his cigar.

I heard the creak of a door and the crisp sound of boots upon gravel.