On the morrow Spurlock (who was unaware that he had offered a prayer) let down the bars to his reserve. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. “But what can one do?” asked Ann Veronica. Had he not said as much at Remenham House? She allowed him to march her through the chapel without resistance. You will torture yourself and torture her all through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith into a sound chalice. ‘Lucky I have you to keep me from Bedlam, then. I thought if you were living, and not captured, I should find you here,—and I was right.
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