The shadows deepened; the last flush of twilight faded from the western
sky; the stars came out; night and the black silence of night shrouded
Eastboro Twin-Lights. The clock in the tower room ticked on to nine and
then to ten. Still Seth sat, a huddled, dazed figure in the camp chair,
by the great lantern. At last he rose and went out on the iron balcony.
He looked down at the buildings below him; they were black shapes
without a glimmer. Brown had evidently gone to bed. In the little stable
Joshua thumped the side of his stall once or twice--dreaming, perhaps,
that he was again pursued by the fly-papered Job--and subsided. Atkins
turned his gaze across the inlet. In the rear window of the bungalow a
dim light still burned. As he watched, it was extinguished. He groaned
aloud, and, with his arms on the railing, thought and thought.