"
"That's settled then; and now, don't talk, for conversation at
this smart pace I don't admire."
Ormiston, like the amiable, obedient young man that he was,
instantly held his tongue, and they strode along at a breathless
pace. There was an unusual concourse of men abroad that night,
watching the gloomy face of the sky, and waiting the hour of
midnight to kindle the myriad of fires; and as the two tall, dark
figures went rapidly by, all supposed it to be a case of life or
death. In the eyes of one of the party, perhaps it was; and
neither halted till they came once more in sight of the house,
whence a short time previously they had carried the death-cold
bride. A row of lamps over the door-portals shed a yellow,
uncertain light around, while the lights of barges and wherries
were sown like stars along the river.
"There is the house," cried Ormiston, and both paused to take
breath; "and I am about at the last gasp. I wonder if your
pretty mistress would feel grateful if she knew what I have come
through to-night for her sweet sake?"
"There are no lights," mad Sir Norman, glancing anxiously up at
the darkened front of the house; "even the link before the door
is unlit.
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