reet with a quickening pulse. What he was hurrying
to he could not tell, but that over-mastering impulse forced him on
quicker and quicker yet.

Suddenly he halted, and examined the number of one of the houses by the
faint and struggling light from the nearest lamp. It was _her_ house;
now there was nothing between them but a few feet of space and fourteen
inches of brickwork. He crossed over to the other side of the street,
and looked up at the house, but could scarcely make it out through the
driving rain. There was no light in the house, and no sign of life about
the street. But there were both light and life in the heart of this
watcher. All the pulses of his blood were astir, keeping time with the
commotion of his mind. He stood there in the shadow, gazing at the murky
house, heedless of the bitter wind and pelting rain, and felt his life
and spirit pass out of his control into an unknown dominion. The storm
that raged around him was nothing to the convulsion of his inner self in
that hour of madness, which was yet happiness. Yet as it had arisen thus
suddenly, so with equal swiftness it died away, and left him standing
there with a chill sense of folly in his mind and of the bitter weather
in his body; for on such a night a mackintosh and a dress coat were not
adapted to keep the most ardent lover warm. He shivered, and turning,
made his way back to Albany, feeling heartily ashamed of himself and
his midnight expedition, and heartily glad that no one knew of it except
himself.

On the following day Bottles--for convenience' sake we still call him
by his old nickname--was obliged to see a lawyer with reference to the
money which he had inherited, and to search for a box which had gone
astray aboard the steamer; also to buy a tall hat, such as he had not
worn for fourteen years; so that between one thing and another it was
half-past four before he got back to the Albany. Here he donned the new
hat, which did not fit very well, and a new black coat which fitted
so well that it seemed to cut into his large frame in every possible
direction, and departed, furiously struggling with a pair of gloves,
also new, for Grosvenor Street.

A quarter of an hour's walk, for he knew the road this time, brought him
to the house. Glancing for a while at the spot where he had stood on the
previous night, he walked up the steps and pulled the bell. Though
he looked bold enough outwardly--indeed, rather imposing than
otherwise--with