commonplace detail lost in the mysterious shadow; and over them the
silver crescent of the moon just strong enough to give an edge of white
to a tall shot-tower. Then far away in the east, in the clear dark sky,
the dim gray ghost of a dome; scarcely visible, and yet revealing its
presence; the great dome of St. Paul's.

This beautiful, still scene--the silence was so intense that the
footfall of a cab-horse crossing Waterloo Bridge could be faintly heard,
as the eye followed the light slowly moving between the two rows of
golden stars--seemed to possess but little interest for the owner of
these rooms. For the moment he had lost altogether his habitual air of
proud reserve.

"Evelyn," he said, abruptly, "was it not in these very rooms you
insisted that, if the work was good, one need not be too scrupulous
about one's associates?"

"I believe so," said the other, indifferently: he had almost lost hope
of ever overcoming his friend's inveterate suspicion.

"Well," Brand said, "there is something in that. I believe in the work
that Lind is engaged in, if I am doubtful about him. And if it pleases
you or him to say that I have joined you merely because I express
sympathy, and promise to say nothing, well and good. But you: you are
more than that?"

The question somewhat startled Lord Evelyn; and his pale face flushed a
little.

"Oh yes," he said; "of course. I--I cannot precisely explain to you."