lay above the horizon; to his excited fancy they looked like the gateway
of another and a better world, set, as the old Egyptians dreamed, above
the uttermost pylons of the West. What lay there beyond the sun? Oh!
what lay beyond the sun? Perhaps, even now, Barbara knew!

A figure appeared standing upon a sand dune between the pathway and the
sea. Septimus was short-sighted and could not tell who it was, but in
this place at this hour doubtless it must be a parishioner, perhaps
one waiting to see him upon some important matter. He must forget his
private griefs. He must strive to steady his shaken mind and attend to
his duties. He drew himself together and walked on briskly.

"I wish I had not been obliged to give away Jack," he said. "He was a
great companion, and somehow I always met people with more confidence
when he was with me; he seemed to take away my shyness. But the license
was seven-and-sixpence, and I haven't got seven-and-sixpence; also he
has an excellent home with that stuffy old woman, if a dull one, for he
must miss his walk. Oh! it's you, Anthony. What are you doing here at
this time of night? Your father told me you had a bad cold and there's
so much sickness about. You should be careful, Anthony, you know
you're not too strong, none of you Arnotts are. Well, I suppose you are
shooting, and most young men will risk a great deal in order to kill
God's other creatures."

The person addressed, a tall, broad-shouldered, rather pale young man
of about twenty-one, remarkable for his large brown eyes and a certain
sweet expression which contrasted somewhat oddly with the general
manliness of his appearance, lifted his cap and answered:

"No, Mr. Walrond, I am not shooting to-night. In fact, I was waiting