ysteries beyond his plummet. With an obscure awe he considered them in
his mind, continuing, meanwhile, to thread the web of streets, and once
more alone in morning sunshine.

In his first retreat he had entirely wandered; and now, steering vaguely
west, it was his luck to light upon an unpretending street, which
presently widened so as to admit a strip of gardens in the midst. Here
was quite a stir of birds; even at that hour, the shadow of the leaves
was grateful; instead of the burnt atmosphere of cities, there was
something brisk and rural in the air; and Challoner paced forward, his
eyes upon the pavement and his mind running upon distant scenes, till he
was recalled, upon a sudden, by a wall that blocked his further
progress. This street, whose name I have forgotten, is no thoroughfare.

He was not the first who had wandered there that morning; for, as he
raised his eyes with an agreeable deliberation, they alighted on the
figure of a girl, in whom he was struck to recognise the third of the
incongruous fugitives. She had run there, seemingly, blindfold; the wall
had checked her career; and being entirely wearied, she had sunk upon
the ground beside the garden railings, soiling her dress among the
summer dust. Each saw the other in the same instant of time; and she,
with one wild look, sprang to her feet and began to hurry from the
scene.

Challoner was doubly startled to meet once more the heroine of his
adventure and to observe the fear with which she shunned him. Pity and
alarm, in nearly equal forces, contested the possession of his mind; and
yet, in spite of both, he saw himself condemned to follow in the lady's
wake. He did so gingerly, as fearing to increase her terrors; but, tread
as lightly as he might, his footfalls eloquently echoed in the empty
street. Their sound appeared to strike in her some strong emotion; for
scarce had he begun to follow ere she paused. A second time she
addressed herself to flight; and a second time she paused. Then she
turned about, and, with doubtful steps and the most attractive
appearance of timidity, drew near to the young man. He on his side
continued to advance with similar signals of distress and bashfulness.
At length, when they were but some steps apart, he saw her eyes brim
over, and she reached out both her hands in eloquent appeal.

"Are you an English gentleman?" she cried.

The unhappy Challoner regarded her with consternation. He was the spirit
of fine court