he rush through the river; and when, late on that evening, Peter
Steinmarc, sore with the rebuff which he had received from Linda,
pottered over to the Ruden Platz, thinking that it would be well that
he should be very cunning, that he should have a spy with his eye
always open, that he should learn everything that could be learned
by one who might watch the red house, and watch Ludovic also, he
learned, all of a sudden, by the speech of a moment, that Ludovic
Valcarm had, on that Sunday morning, paid his wonderful visit to the
island.

"So you mean that you saw him?" said Peter.

"With my own eyes," said Stobe, who had his reasons, beyond Peter's
moderate bribes, for wishing to do an evil turn to Ludovic. "And
I saw her at the parlour window, watching him, when he came back
through the water."

"How long was he with her?" asked Peter, groaning, but yet exultant.

"A matter of half an hour; not less anyways."

"It was two Sundays since," said Peter, remembering well the morning
on which Linda had declined to go to church because of her headache.

"I remember it well. It was the feast of St. Lawrence," said Stobe,
who was a Roman Catholic, and mindful of the festivals of his Church.

Peter tarried for no further discourse with the brewer's man, but
hurried back again, round by the bridge, to the red house. As he went
he applied his mind firmly to the task of resolving what he would do.
He might probably take the most severe revenge on Linda, the revenge
which should for the moment be the most severe, by summoning her to
the presence of her aunt, by there exposing her vile iniquity, and
by there declaring that it was out of the question that a man so
respectable as he should contaminate himself by marrying so vile a
creature. But were he to do this Linda would never be in his power,
and the red house would never be in his possession. Moreover, though
he continued to tell himself that Linda was vile, though he was
prepared to swear to her villany, he did not in truth believe that
she had done anything disgraceful. That she had seen her lover he did
not doubt; but that, in Peter's own estimation, was a thing to be
expected. He must, no doubt, on this occasion pretend to view the
matter with the eyes of Madame Staubach. In punishing Linda, he would
so view it. But he thought that, upon the whole bearing of the case,
it would not be incumbent upon his dignity to abandon for ever his
bride and his bride's property, bec