s of life, well calculated to fill me with surprise. When he
and I dwelt there together, the pavilion had been a temple of misogyny.
And now, one of the detested sex was to be installed under its roof. I
remembered one or two particulars, a few notes of daintiness and almost
of coquetry which had struck me the day before as I surveyed the
preparations in the house; their purpose was now clear, and I thought
myself dull not to have perceived it from the first.

While I was thus reflecting, a second lantern drew near me from the
beach. It was carried by a yachtsman whom I had not yet seen, and who
was conducting two other persons to the pavilion. These two persons were
unquestionably the guests for whom the house was made ready; and,
straining eye and ear, I set myself to watch them as they passed. One
was an unusually tall man, in a travelling hat slouched over his eyes,
and a highland cape closely buttoned and turned up so as to conceal his
face. You could make out no more of him than that he was, as I have
said, unusually tall, and walked feebly with a heavy stoop. By his side,
and either clinging to him or giving him support--I could not make out
which--was a young, tall, and slender figure of a woman. She was
extremely pale; but in the light of the lantern her face was so marred
by strong and changing shadows that she might equally well have been as
ugly as sin or as beautiful as I afterwards found her to be.

When they were just abreast of me, the girl made some remark which was
drowned by the noise of the wind.

"Hush!" said her companion; and there was something in the tone with
which the word was uttered that thrilled and rather shook my spirits. It
seemed to breathe from a bosom labouring under the deadliest terror; I
have never heard another syllable so expressive; and I still hear it
again when I am feverish at night, and my mind runs upon old times. The
man turned towards the girl as he spoke; I had a glimpse of much red
beard and a nose which seemed to have been broken in youth; and his
light eyes seemed shining in his face with some strong and unpleasant
emotion.

But these two passed on and were admitted in their turn to the pavilion.

One by one, or in groups, the seamen returned to the beach. The wind
brought me the sound of a rough voice crying, "Shove off!" Then, after a
pause, another lantern drew near. It was Northmour alone.

My wife and I, a man and a woman, have often agreed to wonder how a