.
Westray felt his companion's hand tighten on his arm.

"You will think me as great a coward as I am," said the organist, "if I
tell you that I never come this way after dark, and should not have come
here to-night if I had not had you with me. I was always frightened as
a boy at the very darkness in the spaces between the buttresses, and I
have never got over it. I used to think that devils and hobgoblins
lurked in those cavernous depths, and now I fancy evil men may be hiding
in the blackness, all ready to spring out and strangle one. It is a
lonely place, this old wharf, and after nightfall--" He broke off, and
clutched Westray's arm. "Look," he said; "do you see nothing in the
last recess?"

His abruptness made Westray shiver involuntarily, and for a moment the
architect fancied that he discerned the figure of a man standing in the
shadow of the end buttress. But, as he took a few steps nearer, he saw
that he had been deceived by a shadow, and that the space was empty.

"Your nerves are sadly overstrung," he said to the organist. "There is
no one there; it is only some trick of light and shade. What is the
building?"

"It was once a chantry of the Grey Friars," Mr Sharnall answered, "and
afterwards was used for excise purposes when Cullerne was a real port.
It is still called the Bonding-House, but it has been shut up as long as
I remember it. Do you believe in certain things or places being bound
up with certain men's destinies? because I have a presentiment that this
broken-down old chapel will be connected somehow or other with a crisis
of my life."

Westray remembered the organist's manner in the church, and began to
suspect that his mind was turned. The other read his thoughts, and said
rather reproachfully:

"Oh no, I am not mad--only weak and foolish and very cowardly."

They had reached the end of the wharf, and were evidently returning to
civilisation, for a sound of music reached them. It came from a little
beer-house, and as they passed they heard a woman singing inside. It
was a rich contralto, and the organist stopped for a moment to listen.

"She has a fine voice," he said, "and would sing well if she had been
taught. I wonder how she comes here."

The blind was pulled down, but did not quite reach the bottom of the
window, and they looked in. The rain blurred the pains on the outside,
and the moisture had condensed within, so that it was not easy to see
clearly; but they made