It is now ten minutes past eleven.
I shall add the odd five minutes to the time for my journey so as to make safe.

I go unarmed and without a light.
I shall show no distrust of anyone or anything this night.
RUPERT'S JOURNAL--_Continued_.
_July_ 2, 1907.
When I was outside the church, I looked at my watch in the bright moonlight, and found I had one minute to wait.

So I stood in the shadow of the doorway and looked out at the scene before me.

Not a sign of life was visible around me, either on land or sea.

On the broad plateau on which the church stands there was no movement of any kind.