to me by the fact that she was disturbed neither by my reillumination
nor by the haste I made to get into slippers and into a wrap.
Hidden, protected, absorbed, she evidently rested on the sill--
the casement opened forward--and gave herself up. There was a great
still moon to help her, and this fact had counted in my quick decision.
She was face to face with the apparition we had met at the lake,
and could now communicate with it as she had not then been able to do.
What I, on my side, had to care for was, without disturbing her,
to reach, from the corridor, some other window in the same quarter.
I got to the door without her hearing me; I got out of it, closed it,
and listened, from the other side, for some sound from her.
While I stood in the passage I had my eyes on her brother's door,
which was but ten steps off and which, indescribably, produced in me
a renewal of the strange impulse that I lately spoke of as my temptation.
What if I should go straight in and march to HIS window?--what if,
by risking to his boyish bewilderment a revelation of my motive,
I should throw across the rest of the mystery the long halter
of my boldness?

This thought held me sufficiently to make me cross to his
threshold and pause again. I preternaturally listened; I figured
to myself what might portentously be; I wondered if his bed were
also empty and he too were secretly at watch. It was a deep,
soundless minute, at the end of which my impulse failed.
He was quiet; he might be innocent; the risk was hideous;
I turned away. There was a figure in the grounds--a figure
prowling for a sight, the visitor with whom Flora was engaged;
but it was not the visitor most concerned with my boy.
I hesitated afresh, but on other grounds and only for a few seconds;
then I had made my choice. There were empty rooms at Bly,