, as they passed, he thought he
heard people speaking at a distance, and stopped to listen. The tones
were those of a male and a female voice conversing evidently with
eagerness, though with slow and measured words and long pauses.
Wilton thought that the sound of one voice was familiar to him,
though the speaker was at such a distance that he could not catch any
of the words.
Not doubting at all, however, that one of the interlocutors was the
person who was to guide him on his way, Wilton paused, determined to
wait till they came up.
A loud "So be it then!" was at length uttered; and the next moment
steps were heard advancing rapidly towards him, and the figure of a
man made its appearance through the mist, first like one of the
fabled shades upon the dim shores of the gloomy river, but growing
into solidity as it came near.

CHAPTER XXIII.
For the right understanding of all that is to follow--strange as it
may appear to the reader, we are only just at the beginning of the
story--it may be necessary to go back to the house of Monsieur
Plessis, and to trace the events of the past day, till we have
brought them exactly down to that precise time Wilton was walking, as
we have described, with a mist around him both moral and physical,
upon the road between High Halstow and Cowley. We must even go beyond
that, and introduce the reader into a lady's bedchamber, on the
morning of that day, as she was dressing herself after the night's
repose; though, indeed, repose it could scarcely be called, for those
bright eyes had closed but for a short period during the darkness,
and anxiety and grief had been the companions of her pillow. Yet it is
not Lady Laura of whom we speak, but of that gentle-looking and
beautiful lady whom we have described as sitting in the saloon of
Plessis's house, shortly before the conspirators assembled there.
Without any of the aids of dress or ornament, she was certainly a very
beautiful being, and as, sitting before the glass, she drew out with
her taper fingers the glossy curls of her rich dark hair, nothing
could be more graceful than the attitudes into which the whole form
was cast. Often as she did so, she would pause and meditate, leaning
her head upon her hand for a moment or two. Sometimes she would raise
her eyes imploringly towards Heaven, and once those eyes became full
of tears. She wiped them away hastily, however, as if angry with
herself for giving way, and then proceeded eagerly with the task of
the toilet.
While she