at light touch of his friend's
elbows by way of Good-Night and benediction, "I suppose are like the
majority of men. And the majority of men will take what they can get.
Adieu! At four in the morning."

"Adieu! At four."

Left to himself, Vendale raked the logs together, sprinkled over them the
white wood-ashes lying on the hearth, and sat down to compose his
thoughts. But they still ran high on their latest theme, and the running
of the river tended to agitate rather than to quiet them. As he sat
thinking, what little disposition he had had to sleep departed. He felt
it hopeless to lie down yet, and sat dressed by the fire. Marguerite,
Wilding, Obenreizer, the business he was then upon, and a thousand hopes
and doubts that had nothing to do with it, occupied his mind at once.
Everything seemed to have power over him but slumber. The departed
disposition to sleep kept far away.

He had sat for a long time thinking, on the hearth, when his candle
burned down and its light went out. It was of little moment; there was
light enough in the fire. He changed his attitude, and, leaning his arm
on the chair-back, and his chin upon that hand, sat thinking still.

But he sat between the fire and the bed, and, as the fire flickered in
the play of air from the fast-flowing river, his enlarged shadow
fluttered on the white wall by the bedside. His attitude gave it an air,
half of mourning and half of bending over the bed imploring. His eyes
were observant of it, when he became troubled by the disagreeable fancy
that it was like Wilding's shadow, and not his own.

A slight change of place would cause it to disappear. He made the
change, and the apparition of his disturbed fancy vanished. He now sat
in the shade of a little nook beside the fire, and the door of the room
was before him.

It had a long cumbrous iron latch. He saw the latch slowly and softly
rise. The door opened a very little, and came to again, as though only
the air had moved it. But he saw that the latch was out of the hasp.

The door opened again very slowly, until it opened wide enough to admit
some one. It afterwards remained still for a while, as though cautiously
held open on the other side. The figure of a man then entered, with its
face turned towards the bed, and stood quiet just within the door. Until
it said, in a low half-whisper, at the same time taking one stop forward:
"Vendale!"

"What now?" he answered, springing from his s