incredibility more or less. For why was the pavilion secretly

prepared? Why had Northmour landed with his guests at dead of

night, in half a gale of wind, and with the floe scarce covered?

Why had he sought to kill me? Had he not recognised my voice? I

wondered. And, above all, how had he come to have a dagger ready

in his hand? A dagger, or even a sharp knife, seemed out of

keeping with the age in which we lived; and a gentleman landing

from his yacht on the shore of his own estate, even although it was