Sax Rohmer

“ The man signalling to that other on the distant tower, for a man he assumed the signaller to be, was wrapped in a sort of cowl, his head so enveloped in the huge hood that in the dim reflection of the torch it was quite impossible to detect his features!
“Good God!” muttered Harley. “What does this mean!”
Stooping below the level of the bushes, he turned and regained the shelter of the terrace, and ran for twenty paces. ”

“ The study was empty. He tried the further door, but as usual, it was locked, then turning, he came down again, into the library.
“How long have you been in here, Latham?” he asked.
“About ten minutes, I should say.”
“So long as that? Are you sure?”
“Why, I should think for quite ten minutes,” answered Phil Westbury, that unaccountable expression of fear coming again into her eyes. “But why do you ask, Mr. Harley?”
“If you have been in here for ten minutes, you can tell me if anyone else has entered or left the room during that time.”
“No one,” replied Latham blankly. “Not a soul.” ”

“ He paused, turned, lowered the blind and, opening the wardrobe, contemplated the garments there, wondering what explanation he could give for changing from evening dress into tweeds at that time of the evening, for he had no other dress clothes with him. But he fully recognized the folly of giving his unknown enemy a clue to his recent movements. ”