Was another "picnic" coming?
He walked briskly to the corner of the house and peered down the winding road.

A carriage was in sight certainly, but it was going, not coming.

He watched it move further away each moment.

Someone--not the grocer or a tradesman--was driving to the village.

But where had he been, and who was he?
Not Seth, for Seth was asleep--he could hear him.
The driver of the carriage, whoever he was, had not visited the lights.
And, as Atkins had said, there was nowhere else to go on that road.
Brown, puzzled, looked about him, at the sea, the lights, the house, the creek, the cove, the bluff on the other side of the cove, the bungalow--ah! the bungalow! For the door of the bungalow was open, and one or two of the shutters were down.