[1] Overcoat.
The great church clock struck ten as Wolfert and the doctor passed
by the churchyard, and the watchman bawled in hoarse voice a long
and doleful "All's well!" A deep sleep had already fallen upon
this primitive little burgh; nothing disturbed this awful silence
excepting now and then the bark of some profligate, night-walking
dog, or the serenade of some romantic cat. It is true Wolfert
fancied more than once that he heard the sound of a stealthy
footfall at a distance behind them; but it might have been merely
the echo of their own steps along the quiet streets. He thought
also at one time that he saw a tall figure skulking after them,
stopping when they stopped and moving on as they proceeded; but the
dim and uncertain lamplight threw such vague gleams and shadows
that this might all have been mere fancy.
They found the old fisherman waiting for them, smoking his pipe in
the stern of the skiff, which was moored just in front of his
little cabin. A pickax and spade were lying in the bottom of the
boat, with a dark lantern, and a stone bottle of good Dutch
courage,[1] in which honest Sam no doubt put even more faith than
Dr.
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