bounded, like a mad thing, up the broad old chimney.

Another dance was near its close, when Mr. Snitchey touched his
partner, who was looking on, upon the arm.

Mr. Craggs started, as if his familiar had been a spectre.

'Is he gone?' he asked.

'Hush! He has been with me,' said Snitchey, 'for three hours and
more. He went over everything. He looked into all our
arrangements for him, and was very particular indeed. He - Humph!'

The dance was finished. Marion passed close before him, as he
spoke. She did not observe him, or his partner; but, looked over
her shoulder towards her sister in the distance, as she slowly made
her way into the crowd, and passed out of their view.

'You see! All safe and well,' said Mr. Craggs. 'He didn't recur
to that subject, I suppose?'

'Not a word.'

'And is he really gone? Is he safe away?'

'He keeps to his word. He drops down the river with the tide in
that shell of a boat of his, and so goes out to sea on this dark
night! - a dare-devil he is - before the wind. There's no such
lonely road anywhere else. That's one thing. The tide flows, he
says, an hour before midnight - about this time. I'm glad it's