no one
there; perhaps with an idea of justifying himself to himself for flying
from its neighbourhood, for putting distance, at least the breadth of
the island, between him and that place, which he could not henceforward
get out of his mind. To think that he had come here so lightly two days
ago with his old uncle's commission, and that now no inducement in the
world, except death or hopeless necessity, could induce him to cross
that threshold. If the woman were on her death-bed, yes; if she was
abandoned by all and without other help, as well might be, as would be,
without doubt, one time or another. But for nothing else, nothing less.
He walked along under the wall, and round the dark shrubberies behind
which enveloped the house. All was quiet and peace, for the moment at
least; the curtains drawn over the windows; the household late of
stirring; no lively housewife there to rouse maids and men, and stir up
a wholesome stir of living. The young man's cheerful face was stern as
he made this round, like a sentinel, thinking of many things that were
deep in the gulf of the past. Two years of his life which looked like a
lifetime, and which were over, with all the horrors that were in them,
and done with, and never to be recalled again. He was still young, and
yet how much older than any one was aware! Twenty-seven, yet with two
lives behind him: one that of youth, to which he had endeavoured to
piece his renewed existence; and the other all complete and ended, a
tragedy, yet like many tragedies in life, cut off not by death. Not
by death, for here were both the actors again within reach of each
other,--one within the sleeping house, one outside in the fresh air of
the morning,--with a gulf like that between Dives and Lazarus, a gulf
which no man might cross, of disgust and loathing, of pain and hatred,
between.

The door in the wall opened stealthily, softly, and some one came out.
It was so early that such precautions seemed scarcely necessary. Perhaps
it was in fear of seeing him, though that was so unlikely, that Lizzie
looked round so jealously. If so, her precautions were useless, as she
stepped out immediately in front of the passenger whom she most desired
to avoid. He did not speak to her for a moment, but walked on, quickening
his pace as hers fluttered into a run, as if to escape him. "Stop," he
said at length. "You need not take the trouble to conceal yourself from
me."

"I'm not concealing--anything," said