it was broken in some parts (only its
foundation left). On approaching the house I observed two doors,--one
on the side fronting the sea, one on the other side, facing a patch of
broken ground that might once have been a garden, and lay waste within
the enclosure of the ruined wall, encumbered with various litter; heaps
of rubbish, a ruined shed, the carcass of a worn-out boat. This latter
door stood wide open,--the other was closed. The house was still and
dark, as if either deserted, or all within it retired to rest.

"I think that open door leads at once to the rooms Mr. Margrave hires;
he can go in and out without disturbing the other inmates. They used to
keep, on the side which they inhabit, a beer-house, but the magistrates
shut it up; still, it is a resort for bad characters. Now, sir, what
shall we do?

"Watch separately. You wait within the enclosure of the wall, hid by
those heaps of rubbish, near the door; none can enter but what you will
observe them. If you see her, you will accost and stop her, and call
aloud for me; I shall be in hearing. I will go back to the high part
of the ground yonder--it seems to me that she must pass that way; and
I would desire, if possible, to save her from the humiliation, the--the
shame of coming within the precincts of that man's abode. I feel I may
trust you now and hereafter. It is a great thing for the happiness and
honour of this poor young lady and her mother, that I may be able to
declare that I did not take her from that man, from any man--from that
house, from any house. You comprehend me, and will obey? I speak to you
as a confidant,--a friend."

"I thank you with my whole heart, sir, for so doing. You saved my
sister's life, and the least I can do is to keep secret all that would
pain your life if blabbed abroad. I know what mischief folks' tongues
can make. I will wait by the door, never fear, and will rather lose my
place than not strain all the legal power I possess to keep the young
lady back from sorrow."

This dialogue was interchanged in close hurried whisper behind the
broken wall, and out of all hearing. Waby now crept through a wide gap
into the inclosure, and nestled himself silently amidst the wrecks of
the broken boat, not six feet from the open door, and close to the wall
of the house itself. I went back some thirty yards up the road, to the
rising ground which I had pointed out to him. According to the best
calculation I could make--considering