cursed
shadow. A deadly stillness possessed the air; there was blight in the
dropping of the rain.

He leaned against the great, gloomy wall, and thought of Ida. At this
hour she was most likely asleep, unless sorrow kept her waking. What
unimagined horrors did she suffer day after day in that accursed
prison-house? How did she bear her torments? Was she well or ill? What
brutality might she not be subjected to? He pictured her face wasted
with secret tears, those eyes which were the light of his soul fixed on
the walls of the cell, hour after hour, in changeless despair, the fire
of passionate resentment feeding at her life's core.

The night became calmer. The rained ceased, and a sudden gleam made him
look up, to behold the moon breaking her way through billows of
darkness.

CHAPTER XXVI

STRAYING

The Enderbys were at Brighton during the autumn. Mr. Enderby only
remained with them two or three days at a time, business requiring his
frequent presence in town. Maud would have been glad to spend her
holidays at some far quieter place, but her mother enjoyed Brighton,
and threw herself into its amusements of the place with spirits which
seemed to grow younger. They occupied handsome rooms, and altogether
lived in a more expensive way than when at home.

Maud was glad to see her mother happy, but could not be at ease herself
in this kind of life. It was soon arranged that she should live in her
own way, withholding from the social riot which she dreaded, and
seeking rest in out-of-the-way parts of the shore, where more of nature
was to be found and less of fashion. Maud feared lest her mother should
feel this as an unkind desertion, but Mrs. Enderby was far from any
such trouble; it relieved her from the occasional disadvantage of
having by her side a grown-up daughter, whose beauty so strongly
contrasted with her own. So Maud spent her days very frequently in
exploring the Downs, or in seeking out retired nooks beneath the
cliffs, where there was no sound in her ears but that of the waves. She
would sit for hours with no companion save her thoughts, which were
unconsciously led from phase to phase by the moving lights and shadows
upon the sea, and the soft beauty of unstable clouds.

Even before leaving London, she had begun to experience a frequent
sadness of mood, tending at times to weariness and depression, which
foreshadowed new changes in her inner life. The fresh delight in nature
and art had wo