The ripple of the water against the boat, as its keel cleaves through the stream—the darkling current hurrying by—the indistinctly-seen craft, of all forms and all sizes, hovering around, and making their way in ghostlike silence, or warning each other of their approach by cries, that, heard from afar, have something doleful in their note—the solemn shadows cast by the bridges—the deeper gloom of the echoing arches—the lights glimmering from the banks—the red reflection thrown upon the waves by a fire kindled on some stationary barge—the tall and fantastic shapes of the houses, as discerned through the obscurity;—these, and other sights and sounds of the same character, give a sombre colour to the thoughts of one who may choose to indulge in meditation at such a time and in such a place. Something he saw there had a curious effect upon him. Who is the other?” “What other?” Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. I felt as though I had bandaged eyes. Our ideal had fallen. How I could have been such a fool I’ll never know. I was born on an island in the South Seas. He seemed to do ten things before she could think to do one, to leap upon her and take possession. She was on the rim of civilization, entering, as Spurlock was on the rim, preparing to make his exit. ‘I doubt it.
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