e big vessel, as far as
I could judge in that light. I lingered there for some few minutes,
looking at the ships, wondering why it was that Mr. Jermyn had not met
me. I was nervous about it. My nerves were tense from all the excitement
of the night. One cannot stand much excitement for long. I had had
enough excitement that night to last me through the week. As I stood
looking at the ships, I began to feel a horror of the wharf-side. I felt
as though the very stones of the place were my enemies, lying in wait
for me. I cannot explain the feeling more clearly than that. It was due
probably to the loneliness of the great empty square, dark as a tomb.
Then, expecting Mr. Jermyn, but failing to meet with him, was another
cause for dread. I thought, in my nervousness, that I should be in a
fine pickle if any enemies made away with Mr. Jermyn, leaving me alone,
in a strange land, with only a few silver pieces in my pocket. Still,
Mr. Jermyn was long in coming. My anxiety was almost more than I could
bear.

At last, growing fearful that I had somehow missed him at the mouth of
the dark alley, I walked slowly back in my tracks, wishing that I had a
thicker jacket, since it was beginning to rain rather smartly. There was
a great sort of inn on the side of the square to which I walked. It had
lights on the second floor. The great windows of that story opened on
to balconies, in what is, I believe, the Spanish way of building. I
remember feeling bitterly how cheery the warm lights looked, inside
there, where the people were. I stood underneath the balcony out of the
rain, looking out sharply towards the alley, expecting at each instant
to see Mr. Jermyn. Still he did not come. I dared not move from where I
was lest I should miss him. I racked my brains to try to remember if I
had obeyed orders exactly. I wondered whether I had come to the right
square. I began to imagine all kinds of evil things which might have
happened to him. Perhaps that secret fiend of a woman had been too many
for him. Perhaps some other secret service people had waylaid him as
he entered the town. Perhaps he was even then in bonds in some cellar,
being examined for letters by some of the usurper's men.

CHAPTER XI. AURELIA

While I was fretting myself into a state of hysteria, the catch of one
of the great window-doors above me was pushed back. Someone came out on
the balcony just over my head. It was a woman, evidently in some great
distress, for sh