Around the corner of the stable a bulky figure appeared.

It came on until it stood beneath the balcony.
"Seth," called a low voice; "Seth, are you there ?" For a moment the agitated lightkeeper could not trust his voice to answer.
"Seth," repeated the voice; "Seth." The figure was moving off in the direction of the other tower.

Then Seth answered.
"Here--here I be," he stammered, in a hoarse whisper.

"Who is it ?" He knew who it was, perfectly well; the question was quite superfluous.
"It's me," said the voice.

"Let me in, I've got to talk to you." Slowly, scarcely certain that this was not a part of some dreadful nightmare, Seth descended the iron ladder to the foot of the tower, dragged his faltering feet to the door, and slowly swung it open.