should not find Grail there, he was to proceed to Walnut Tree Walk. If
Grail would come back with him, so much the better.

Walter was left to refresh himself after his journey. He changed his
clothes, and presently sat down to a meal. But appetite by this time
failed him. He had the table cleared ten minutes after it was laid.

He was in the utmost uneasiness. Could it be Grail who had called? He
tried to assure himself that it must be a mistake. How could Grail
expect him to be in town, after reading that letter from Jersey? If
indeed the visitor were Gilbert, some catastrophe had befallen. But he
would not entertain such a fear. Then the second caller; that might be
any acquaintance. Still, it was strange that he too had refused his
name.

You know the state of mind in which, whatever one thinks of, a pain, a
fear, draws the thought another way. It was so with Egremont. The two
mysterious callers and the annoying scene at the railway station
plagued him successively, and for background to them all was a shadow
of indefinite apprehension.

He could scarcely endure his impatience. It seemed as though the
messenger would never return. The lad presented himself, however,
without undue delay. He had found Mr. Grail, he said, at the second
address.

'And whom did you see in Brook Street?'

'A woman, sir; she said Mr. Grail didn't live there.'

'He couldn't come with you?'

'No, sir. But he said he'd come very soon.'

'Thank you. That will do.'

So Grail was _not_ at the library. Then of a certainty something had
happened. Thyrza was ill; perhaps--

He walked about the room. That dread physical pain which clutches at
all the inner parts when one is waiting in agonised impatience for that
which will be misery when it comes, racked him so that at moments he
had to lean for support. He felt how the suffering of the last
fortnight, in vain fled from hither and thither, had reduced his
strength. Since he took leave of Thyrza, he had not known one moment of
calm. When passion was merciful for a time, fear had taken its turn to
torment him. It had not availed to demonstrate to himself that fear
_must_ be groundless. Love from of old has had a comrade superstition;
if he awoke from a wretched dream, he interpreted it as sympathy with
Thyrza in some dreadful trial. And behold! he had been right. His
flight had profited nothing; woe had come upon her he loved, and upon
the man he most desired to befriend.

Half an h