He
moved away rather sadly, for he had his duty to perform, and the moments
would not stand still.

We watched him receding in the dark night; a stalwart figure; an honest
man, with much that was good in him, though his lines were not cast in
grooves where influences for good are strong. At the end of the avenue
he called the hour and the night; then passed up out of sight into the
market-place once more. There in due time would return that quiet,
solemn procession of two; the acolyte bearing the lantern, the priest
with his bent back and the weight of years upon him bearing the Host:
their mission accomplished: the last rites administered: the pure soul
perhaps already far on its long journey.

The night passed on to dawn and daybreak and sunrise: a new day, a new
world. Was Nerissa still lingering here, or, as she had said, had her
sightless eyes opened to the world beyond? It was impossible to leave
Lerida without ascertaining how it fared with this couple that we had
found so interesting and exceptional. Though it delayed us some hours,
it must be done, the visit paid.

We breakfasted, attended by the erring waiter, who looked pale and
brooding and revengeful, as though he meditated drowning the Dragon in
her own soapsuds. Then, in the clear early morning, we went forth.

The way was familiar by this time. We knew its every aspect: all the
outlines were old friends. We passed up the avenue and through the
crowded market-place, where people laughed and talked and bought and
sold, as if life were one long joke and would last for ever, and there
was no such thing as death and decay. Down the long narrow street where
we again saw the men pressing the grapes, and noted the stain of the
rich red juice, and smelt the luscious perfume of the muscatel--for they
have red grapes here with the muscatel scent and flavour. Onwards into a
quiet side street and the quaint old house that now had upon it the dark
grey shadow.

We mounted the fine broad staircase with its carved oak balusters and
panelled walls. There was not a sound to be heard. At such moments
sympathy is quick to respond, and the awful messenger makes the weight
of his errand known.

The door was slightly ajar. We pushed it gently open and entered,
feeling ourselves in the presence of death. Peace had fallen upon the
house.

There in the quiet room was the vacant chair near the latticed window,
where so recently we had seen that wonderful embodiment of be