window and began speaking.

"I was at a house near Regent's Park last night, and when I came away
the fancy took me to walk home instead of taking a hansom. It was a
clear pleasant night enough, and after a few minutes I had the streets
pretty much to myself. It's a curious thing, Austin, to be alone in
London at night, the gas-lamps stretching away in perspective, and the
dead silence, and then perhaps the rush and clatter of a hansom on the
stones, and the fire starting up under the horse's hoofs. I walked
along pretty briskly, for I was feeling a little tired of being out in
the night, and as the clocks were striking two I turned down Ashley
Street, which, you know, is on my way. It was quieter than ever there,
and the lamps were fewer; altogether, it looked as dark and gloomy as a
forest in winter. I had done about half the length of the street when I
heard a door closed very softly, and naturally I looked up to see who
was abroad like myself at such an hour. As it happens, there is a
street lamp close to the house in question, and I saw a man standing on
the step. He had just shut the door and his face was towards me, and I
recognized Crashaw directly. I never knew him to speak to, but I had
often seen him, and I am positive that I was not mistaken in my man. I
looked into his face for a moment, and then--I will confess the
truth--I set off at a good run, and kept it up till I was within my own
door."

"Why?"

"Why? Because it made my blood run cold to see that man's face. I
could never have supposed that such an infernal medley of passions
could have glared out of any human eyes; I almost fainted as I looked.
I knew I had looked into the eyes of a lost soul, Austin, the man's
outward form remained, but all hell was within it. Furious lust, and
hate that was like fire, and the loss of all hope and horror that
seemed to shriek aloud to the night, though his teeth were shut; and
the utter blackness of despair. I am sure that he did not see me; he
saw nothing that you or I can see, but what he saw I hope we never
shall. I do not know when he died; I suppose in an hour, or perhaps
two, but when I passed down Ashley Street and heard the closing door,
that man no longer belonged to this world; it was a devil's face I
looked upon."

There was an interval of silence in the room when Villiers ceased
speaking. The light was failing, and all the tumult of an hour ago was
quite hushed. Austin had bent his hea