Seth, having finished his night watching and breakfast, was audibly asleep in the house.

Brown rubbed and polished leisurely, his thoughts far away, and a frown on his face.

For the thousandth time that week he decided that he was a loafer and a vagabond, and that it would have been much better for himself, and creation generally, if he had never risen after the plunge over the steamer's rail.
He pulled the cloth cover over the glittering lantern and descended the iron stair to the ground floor.

When he emerged into the open air, he heard a sound which made him start and listen.

The sound was the distant rattle of wheels from the direction of the village.