The Dust of Conflict by Harold Bindloss

IT was late at night when Appleby, who felt no inclination for sleep, looked out into the soft darkness from a window of the cuartel where he had now passed six anxious days Here and there a light blinked dimly in the gulf of blacker shadow that marked the narrow street beneath him, for there was no moon that night, and the steamy dampness the faint warm wind drove before it obscured the stars. A hot, musky smell rose from the silent town.

Still, Appleby, who had keen eyes, fancied he had seen a shadowy form pass twice beneath the nearest light, and then turn as though looking up at the cuartel, and he called Harper softly when it appeared again.