On we walked, on and on for what seemed an interminable distance. It was
quite moonless and only a few stars twinkled here and there through a
veil of light clouds that had drifted up with the sunset. The grass
underfoot was black, the sea was nearly as dark, and the inland country
invisible. Once I remarked:
"It's a curious thing that we haven't met any of our fellow watchers."
"The beats are very long," she said, "and I'm afraid all the watchers
don't keep at their posts all the time."
"What; they take a nap now and then?"
She seemed as though she were going to agree, and then to change her
mind.
"Oh, we shall meet some one very soon. I think father is taking
this beat."
But we met no one, and as we pursued our lonely way I began to think that
here was quite a possible reason for my not having come upon one of these
coast patrols two nights ago. Still, it was only a possible reason; the
other alternative remained.
And then, I know not how it was, but I began gradually to get a curious
impression that _something_ was in the air, _something_ was going to
happen. It is easy to say I only imagine now in the retrospect that I had
this feeling. But I noted the sensation clearly and positively at the
time. I strained my eyes, I looked this way and that, so strong did the
feeling become.
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