"Stand out or I'll fire!" There was no answer and he waited.

He heard the scraping of a boot against the brick-work and he knew that the intruder was climbing the wall.

He turned in the direction of the sound, but again found nothing.
Then from somewhere above him came such a trill of demoniacal laughter as chilled his blood.

The top of the wall was concealed by the overhanging branch of a tree and his light was valueless.
"Come down," he shouted, "I've got you covered!" Again came that terrible laugh, half-fear, half-derision, and a voice shrill and harsh came down to him.
"Murderer! Murderer! You killed Thornton Lyne, damn you! I've kept this for you--take it!" Something came crashing through the trees, something small and round, a splashing drop, as of water, fell on the back of Tarling's hand and he shook it off with a cry, for it burnt like fire.

He heard the mysterious stranger drop from the coping of the wall and the sound of his swift feet.