What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. Much too formal for a cosy chat between old friends. But supposing he is? Supposing he made but one misstep? Your island would be a haven of security. There was going to be no quarter between these two. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. ‘You see, Melusine, that none of our visitors were as informed as they would wish to be. ‘If Major Alderley should happen to call, you may admit him also. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames.
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