the occasion of the sounds and stench that had so suddenly assailed

him, and the strange conjunction of fugitives whom he had seen to

issue from the house, were mysteries beyond his plummet. With an

obscure awe he considered them in his mind, continuing, meanwhile,

to thread the web of streets, and once more alone in morning

sunshine.

In his first retreat he had entirely wandered; and now, steering

vaguely west, it was his luck to light upon an unpretending street,

which presently widened so as to admit a strip of gardens in the

midst. Here was quite a stir of birds; even at that hour, the

shadow of the leaves was grateful; instead of the burnt atmosphere

of cities, there was something brisk and rural in the air; and

Challoner paced forward, his eyes upon the pavement and his mind

running upon distant scenes, till he was recalled, upon a sudden,

by a wall that blocked his further progress. This street, whose

name I have forgotten, is no thoroughfare.

He was not the first who had wandered there that morning; for as he

raised his eyes with an agreeable deliberation, they alighted on

the figure of a girl, in whom he was struck to recognise the third

of the incongruous fugitives. She had run there, seemingly,

blindfold; the wall had checked her career: and being entirely

wearied, she had sunk upon the ground beside the garden railings,

soiling her dress among the summer dust. Each saw the other in the

same instant of time; and she, with one wild look, sprang to her

feet and began to hurry from the scene.

Challoner was doubly startled to meet once more the heroine of his

<<BackPagesTo menuNext>>