ne, and
clandestinely, at midnight? His heart beat faster than ever. For an
instant all that he had read or heard from his wild companions, and what
he had himself believed until he came to Gethin, of the wiles and
inconstancy of woman, flashed upon his mind. Had he, bred in the town,
and familiar with all the ways of vice, been flattered and hoodwinked by
a country wanton? Impossible. For, though there were no virtue in the
world, he felt assured that Harry loved him, and him alone. She must be
walking in her sleep. Softly, but very swiftly, he left the parlor, and
hurried to the front-door. It was closed, but unfastened. He opened it,
and looked out. All was as light as day, and yet so different. Every
object in the street, every stone in the cottage opposite, stood out
distinct and clear, but bathed in a pale and ghostly atmosphere. The
distant murmur of the sea came to him like the sigh of one just freed
from pain. Nothing else was to be heard; no human tread disturbed the
midnight stillness; but along the winding road that led to Turlock he
caught the far-off flutter of a woman's dress. She was going at rapid
speed, and the next moment had turned the corner, but not before he had
recognized his Harry; and, closing the inn door softly behind him, he
started after her like an arrow from the bow.

The scene of this pursuit was strange and weird enough, had Richard
possessed eyes for any thing but the object of it. The sky was without a
cloud, and the sea--which showed on its cold blue surface a broad and
shining path where the moon-beams lay--without a ripple. On shore there
was even less of motion. The bramble that threw its slender shadow on
the road moved not a twig. Nature, green and pale, seemed to be cast in
an enchanted sleep, and even to suspend her breathing. From the point
Richard had reached he could see the road stretching for a full mile,
like a white ribbon, save in the middle, where it dipped between high
banks. It led to Turlock only, but at this place a foot-path struck
across the fields to the Fairies' Bower. To his astonishment, though
indeed he had scarcely capacity enough for further wonder, Harry took
this path; he saw her climb the stile, and then for the first time look
round; he sank under the hedge, to hide himself; and when he cautiously
looked forth again the girl had vanished. But he knew whither she was
going now. He had assisted her across that very stile but a few days
ago; he had walke