r crept behind a
black and silent hull. All this I can recall now, and wonder at the
trivial nature of the thought. Then I caught the scent of white
rose, and fell to wondering how it came there. There had been the
same scent in the drawing-room that afternoon, I remembered, when
Claire had said good-bye for ever. How had it followed me?
After this I set myself aimlessly to count the lights that passed,
lost count, and began again. And all the time the white glimmer hung
at my side.

I was still wrapped up in my cloak, though the cape was flung back to
give my arms free play. Rowing so, I must quickly have been warm;
but I felt it no more than I had felt the cold as I walked home from
the theatre. My boat was creeping along the Middlesex shore, by the
old Temple stairs, and presently threaded its way through more
crowded channels, and passed under the blackness of London Bridge.

How far below this I went, I cannot clearly call to mind; of
distance, as well as of time, I had lost all calculation.
I recollect making a circuit to avoid the press of boats waiting for
the early dawn by Billingsgate Market, and have a vision of the White
Tower against the heavens. But my next impression of any clearness
is that of rowing under the shadow of a black three-masted schooner
that lay close under shore, tilted over on her port side in the low
water. As my dingey floated out again from beneath the overhanging
hull, I looked up and saw the words, _Water-Witch_, painted in white
upon her pitch-dark bows.

By this time I was among the tiers of shipping. I looked back over
my shoulder, and saw their countless masts looming up as far as eye
could see in the dim light, and their lamps flickering and wavering
upon the water. I rowed about a score of strokes, and then stopped.
Why go further? This place would serve as well as any other. No one
was likely to hear my splash as I went overboard, and even if heard
it would not be interpreted. I was still near enough to the
Middlesex bank to be out of the broad moonlight that lit up the
middle of the river. I took the tin box out of my cloak and stowed
it for a moment in the stern. I would sink it with the key before I
flung myself in. So, pulling the key out of the other pocket, I took
off the cloak, then my dress-coat and waistcoat, folded them
carefully, and placed them on the stern seat. This done, I slipped
the key into one pocket of my trousers, my watch and chain in