. Three of them opposite to me
were holding lanterns low down to the ground. Their eyes, and the eyes
of all the rest, were fixed silently and expectantly on my face. I
knew what was at my feet--I knew why they were holding the lanterns so
low to the ground.

"Can you identify him, sir?"

My eyes dropped slowly. At first I saw nothing under them but a coarse
canvas cloth. The dripping of the rain on it was audible in the
dreadful silence. I looked up, along the cloth, and there at the end,
stark and grim and black, in the yellow light--there was his dead face.

So, for the first and last time, I saw him. So the Visitation of God
ruled it that he and I should meet.

XI

The inquest was hurried for certain local reasons which weighed with
the coroner and the town authorities. It was held on the afternoon of
the next day. I was necessarily one among the witnesses summoned to
assist the objects of the investigation.

My first proceeding in the morning was to go to the post-office, and
inquire for the letter which I expected from Marian. No change of
circumstances, however extraordinary, could affect the one great
anxiety which weighed on my mind while I was away from London. The
morning's letter, which was the only assurance I could receive that no
misfortune had happened in my absence, was still the absorbing interest
with which my day began.

To my relief, the letter from Marian was at the office waiting for me.

Nothing had happened--they were both as safe and as well as when I had
left them. Laura sent her love, and begged that I would let her know
of my return a day beforehand. Her sister added, in explanation of
this message, that she had saved "nearly a sovereign" out of her own
private purse, and that she had claimed the privilege of ordering the
dinner and giving the dinner which was to celebrate the day of my
return. I read these little domestic confidences in the bright morning
with the terrible recollection of what had happened the evening before
vivid in my memory. The necessity of sparing Laura any sudden
knowledge of the truth was the first consideration which the letter
suggested to me. I wrote at once to Marian to tell her what I have
told in these pages--presenting the tidings as gradually and gently as
I could, and warning her not to let any such thing as a newspaper fall
in Laura's way while I was absent. In the case of any other woman,
less courageous and less reliable, I