nine o'clock
Events were happening indeed with him , this placid August weather . First the occupancy of the château by the mysterious lady , and the subsequent edict of the steward against all strangers ; then the coming of this tourist yesterday , who had gone for an evening stroll without paying his bill , and was now a prisoner of the law , Heaven only knew on what charge ! Added to this -- a matter of excitement enough surely -- the giant Englishman , who had been his guest for nearly three weeks -- a model guest too , -- had departed at a minute 's notice , though not , the saints be praised , without paying his bill . And now , though the hour was yet scarcely nine o'clock , a carriage with steaming horses was standing at his door , and the beautiful young English lady was herself inside his inn . He was indeed conducting her down the grey stone passage out on to the rose-bordered garden , which was the pride of his heart , and where monsieur , the remaining Englishman , was smoking his morning cigarette . She barely waited until Monsieur Jules had bowed himself out of hearing distance . She looked at Wrayson , at the table laid for one only , and at the empty garden .