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“I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. ” For a fraction of a second the two young men hesitated. You will be opposite the big entrance in Old Palace Yard. It was eleven o'clock. Ramage went up the Avenue, and she hurried along the path with a beating heart and a disagreeable sense of unsolved problems in her mind. The ripple of the water against the boat, as its keel cleaves through the stream—the darkling current hurrying by—the indistinctly-seen craft, of all forms and all sizes, hovering around, and making their way in ghostlike silence, or warning each other of their approach by cries, that, heard from afar, have something doleful in their note—the solemn shadows cast by the bridges—the deeper gloom of the echoing arches—the lights glimmering from the banks—the red reflection thrown upon the waves by a fire kindled on some stationary barge—the tall and fantastic shapes of the houses, as discerned through the obscurity;—these, and other sights and sounds of the same character, give a sombre colour to the thoughts of one who may choose to indulge in meditation at such a time and in such a place. . She could hear their footsteps upon the pavement. . Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. And, while the turnkey was busy with the keys, she whispered to the black, "Follow him, Caliban.
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