Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. Ennison slightly——” There was a dead silence in the little room. ‘What’s more,’ went on Martha, ‘I knew something Mr Charvill didn’t, or he wouldn’t so readily have left it behind him. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. Indeed, he told me nothing at all. He returned, blue towel in hand.
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