The Spy in Black by J. Storer Clouston

Upon a secluded road in the quiet suburb of Trinity stood the residence of Mr. Robert Drummond. It was a neat unpretentious little villa graced by a number of trees and a clinging Virginia creeper, and Mr. Drummond was a neat unpretentious little gentleman, graced by a number of virtues, and a devoted Mrs. Drummond. From the upper windows of his house you could catch a glimpse of the castled and templed hills of Edinburgh on the one side, and the shining Forth and green coasts of Fife on the other. The Forth, in fact, was close at hand, and of late Mr. Drummond had been greatly entertained by observing many interesting movements upon its waters.

He had looked forward to exhibiting and expounding these features to his friend Mr. Burnett, and felt considerably disappointed when upon the morning of the day when the minister should have come, a telegram arrived instead. It ran --