Then in the gathering darkness he heard the tip-tap of footsteps on the highway.

But it never occurred to him that this passenger would continue on the highroad; he was certainly going over the downs to Brighton.
The air was quite windless, but at this moment Morris heard the boughs of the oak-tree immediately above him stir and shake, and looking up he saw Mr.Taynton sitting in a fork of the tree.

That, too, was perfectly natural; Mr.Taynton was Mills's partner; he was there as a sort of umpire.

He held a glass of port wine in one hand, and was sipping it in a leisurely manner, and when Morris looked up at him, he smiled at him, but put his finger to his lips, as if recommending silence.

And as the steps on the road outside sounded close he turned a meaning glance in the direction of the road.