ue of my visit to Vyner would be. It happened to be a
perfect evening. The sun had just set. The long reach of river stretched
away to the distant bend, where, through the gathering twilight, I could
just see the white gates of the Eight-Mile Lock. Raising my voice, I
sang out in a long-drawn, sonorous monotone the familiar cry of "Lock!
lock! lock!" and, bending to the sculls, sent my little skiff flying
down stream. The sturdy figure of old James Pegg, the lock-keeper, whom
I had known for many years, instantly appeared on the bridge. One of the
great gates slowly swung open, and, shipping my sculls, I shot in, and
called out a cheery good-evening to my old friend.

"Mr. Bell!" exclaimed the old fellow, hurrying along the edge of the
lock. "Well, I never! I did not see it was you at first, and yet I ought
to have known that long, swinging stroke of yours. You are the last
person I expected to see. I was half afraid it might be some one else,
although I don't know that I was expecting any one in particular. Excuse
me, sir, but was it you called out 'Lock' just now?"

"Of course it was," I answered, laughing. "I'm in the deuce of a hurry
to-night, Jimmy, as I want to get on to Wotton before dark. Look sharp,
will you, and let me down."

"All right, sir--but you did frighten me just now. I wish you hadn't
called out like that!"

As I glanced up at him, I was surprised to see that his usually ruddy,
round face was as white as a sheet, and he was breathing quickly.

"Why, what on earth is the matter, Jimmy?" I cried; "how can I have
frightened you?"

"Oh, it's nothing, sir; I suppose I'm an old fool," he faltered,
smiling. "I don't know what's the matter with me, sir--I'm all of a
tremble. The fact is, something happened here last night, and I don't
seem to have got over it. You know, I am all by myself here now, sir,
and a lonely place it is."

"Something happened?" I said; "not an accident, I hope?"

"No, sir, no accident that I know of, and yet I have been half expecting
one to occur all day, and I have been that weak I could hardly wind up
the sluices. I am getting old now, and I'm not the man I was; but I'm
right glad to see you, Mr. Bell, that I am."

He kept pausing as he spoke, and now and then glanced up the river, as
if expecting to see a boat coming round the bend every moment. I was
much puzzled by his extraordinary manner. I knew him to be a steady man,
and one whose services were much valued by the