nd he hastily stood upright and
walked onwards to meet the advancing pedestrian. The man carried a
light which he flashed in Cuthbert's face, and the youth saw that
it was one of the men-at-arms on guard over these buildings.

"What are you doing here?" asked the man civilly, though in
slightly peremptory fashion.

"I did not know that this road was anything but public," answered
Cuthbert, with careless boldness. "I have walked in London streets
before now, no man interfering with me."

"Have a care how and where you walk at night," returned the man,
passing by without further comment. "There be many perils abroad in
the streets--more than perchance you wot of."

Cuthbert thanked him for the hint, and went on his way. He would
have liked well enough to linger till the tall man emerged again,
but he saw that to do so would only excite suspicion.

Although it was quite dark by this time, it was not really late;
for it was the last day of October save one, and masses of heavy
cloud obscured the sky. Now and again a ray of moonlight glinted
through these ragged masses, but for the rest it was profoundly
dark in the narrow streets, and only a little lighter on the open
river.

The tide was running in fast, with a strong cold easterly wind.
Cuthbert saw that it would be hard work to row against it.

"Better wait for the ebb; it will not be long in coming now," he
said to himself as he noted the height of the tide; and stepping
into his boat, he pulled idly out into midstream, as being a safer
place of waiting than the dark wharf, to find himself drifting up
with the strong current, which he did not care to try to stem.

"Beware of the dark-flowing river!" spoke a voice within him;
"beware of the black cellar!"

He started, for it almost seemed as though some one had spoken the
words in his ear, and a little thrill of fear ran through him. But
all was silent save for the wash of the current as it bore him
rapidly onwards, and he knew that the voice was one in his own
head.

Upwards and upwards he drifted; was it by his own will, or not? He
did not himself know, he could not have said. He only knew that a
spell seemed upon him, that an intense desire had seized him to
look once again upon that lonely house beside the river bank. He
had no wish to try to obtain entrance there. He felt that he was
treading the dark mazes of some unhallowed plot. But this very
suspicion only increased his burning curiosity; and surel