"Oh, yes, sir; I've nothin' to say ag'inst her," and the landlord, with
a look which showed that he objected to be "pumped," turned to another
customer.

Max took the brandy he had bought for the girl and hurried back to the
place where he had left her. As he went, an instinct of curiosity,
natural enough, considering his recently acquired knowledge, made him go
down the passage and try to look in through the grim, dusty window of
the shop. But this also was boarded up on the inner side, so that no
view could be obtained of what was within.

It seemed to Max, however, as he stood there, with his eyes fixed on the
planks, trying to discover an aperture, that between the cracks of the
boards there glimmered a faint light. It seemed to flicker, then it died
out.

Surely, he thought, the girl has not summoned enough courage to go into
the room by herself?

He hurried back down the passage, and made his way as before to the
wharf. Stumbling round the piles of timber, he found the lane by which
he had entered and left the house. It seemed to him, though he told
himself it must be only fancy, that some of the loose planks had been
disturbed since his last journey over them. Reaching the door of
outhouse, which he had left ajar, he found it shut.

He was now sure that some one had gone in, or come out, since he left;
and for a moment the circumstance seemed to him sufficiently suspicious
to make him pause. The next moment, however, the remembrance of the
girl's white face, of the pleading blue eyes, returned to him vividly,