silence, society, leisure, change--I knew not what--to shake off the
sensation of that creature's presence. Yet I lingered about the
garden--I hardly know why; I partly suppose, because I feared to
encounter the resemblance again on the solitary common, where it had
vanished, and partly from a feeling of inexpressible compassion for
Lucy. In a few minutes Mistress Clarke came forth and joined me. We
walked some paces in silence.

"You know all now," said she, solemnly.

"I saw IT," said I, below my breath.

"And you shrink from us, now," she said, with a hopelessness which
stirred up all that was brave or good in me.

"Not a whit," said I. "Human flesh shrinks from encounter with the
powers of darkness: and, for some reason unknown to me, the pure and
holy Lucy is their victim."

"The sins of the fathers shall be visited upon the children," she
said.

"Who is her father?" asked I. "Knowing as much as I do, I may surely
know more--know all. Tell me, I entreat you, madam, all that you can
conjecture respecting this demoniac persecution of one so good."

"I will; but not now. I must go to Lucy now. Come this afternoon, I
will see you alone; and oh, sir! I will trust that you may yet find
some way to help us in our sore trouble!"