ete as soon as it could be made? He had to record this gratifying
intelligence for the Committee's benefit, and he did it with a relish.

"Nothing to fear now for the old section," he remarked cheerfully.

"Nothing but the unexpected collapse of a pile," said Garstin.

"Oh, that's impossible."

"It's improbable."

The report was finished and placed in its long envelope, and they
prepared to go home. Trevannion began to busy himself with a heavy oil
lantern. "I am going to have a look at the section on the way," he said;
"just to see that the river has not come over the top," he added
jestingly. "It's a whim of mine. But don't come if you'd rather not. I
can join you at the steps."

"Oh, I'll come," said Garstin--without enthusiasm.

The pair stepped out into the night, Trevannion locking the door behind
him. It was pitch-dark on the wharf. They could feel the presence of,
rather than see, the river that flowed silently in front of them, and
they could roughly locate the far bank by the myriads of starry lights
that showed Berthwer town beyond. A single red lamp glowed dully far to
the west; it belonged to a steamer that they had seen come to her
moorings in the afternoon. There were no other vessels showing lights.
The rest was black with a blackness sentient of vague forms--an
impenetrable wall of darkness that seemed to stand between them and the
outer world.

Picking their way carefully between debris and other impedimenta, they
made their way towards the section, and had covered half the distance
when Garstin stopped. "Don't you hear something?" he asked. "I am almost
sure I was not mistaken. It was like the sound of blows. There cannot be
anybody there now, can there?"

Trevannion halted and listened.

"I don't hear anything," he said presently. "Besides, who could be on
the wharf now? You know the regulations, and the watchman is there to
enforce them."

"I think--the noise has stopped."

Trevannion flashed the lantern on him suspiciously. "Nerves again" had
come into his mind. However, he said nothing, but resumed his march,
swinging his lantern this way and that, so as to gain a larger
circumference of light. But suddenly he again stopped, as an unexpected
sound fell on his ears.

"By jove--water!" he exclaimed, and broke into a run.

Garstin followed as fast as he could, but, deprived of the light, he
quickly came to grief over some old metal. When he picked himself up,
the other was yards ahe