alment.

Rising up, I mutely blessed the friendly portal that made me an outcast
in the storm-swept streets from which the very dogs shrank terrified.

One moment, one only, I paused as I passed by my father's gate-way,
crowned with stone lions that glimmered in the gloom. The force of
association and of contrast shook me with emotion--I could not enter
there. My own roof afforded me no shelter from the biting blast; but
squares away, with a comparative stranger, I must seek (if I ever gained
it on that dreadful night) a refuge from the storms and sure protection
from my foes.

I moved rapidly along toward the tall street-lamp that diffused a dim
and murky light from its frost-crusted lantern at the corner of the
square, and before I reached it I encountered the first danger of my
undertaking.

Protected, fortunately, by the shadow of the high stone-wall near which
I walked rapidly, I met Dinah, so nearly face to face that the whiff of
the pipe she was smoking was warm upon my cheek. Wrapped in her old
cloth shawl and quilted hood, she muttered as she went, and staggered
too, I thought, though here the northeast wind, that swept her along
before it, might have been at fault, while, blowing in my face, it
retarded my progress.

I passed her unchallenged, but, glancing back just as I turned the
corner, I became aware that she was retracing her steps. I fled rapidly
on until I reached the shelter of a friendly nook between two houses
(well remembered of old), when, turning again to gaze, I saw her
standing immovable as a statue beneath the lamp-post, evidently looking
in the direction I had taken. There seemed no way of escape now save in
persistent flight. My place of concealment might be too readily detected
by a cautious observer, a savage on the war-trail. Should Dinah herself
pursue me, I knew my speed would distance her; but, that prompt pursuit
of some kind was imminent, I knew from that moment.

My aim was to reach the house of Dr. Pemberton, no intermediate one
presenting itself as that of an acquaintance of whom I could ask
shelter, and belief in the truth of my assertions. Of this house I
remembered the position with tolerable accuracy. It formed one, I knew,
of a long block of buildings extending from one street to another, and
was near the centre.

I had been there only on rare occasions, when his niece abode with him,
for he dwelt ordinarily in widowed solitude, although, our intimacy was
that of rel