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It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. He found his youngest daughter intrusive in his thoughts all through the morning, and still more so in the afternoon. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed. You sent back my Christmas checks. ‘Gabbling and muttering in a foreign tongue, that’s what I heard, sir,’ had declared the gap-toothed ancient, when he told them of the initial foray he had made, sneaking around the house in the dark. “This is the slavery of the veiled life. "Your sympathy is being wasted. Q.
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