Page:The Mystery of a Hansom Cab.djvu/49

Rh path with Frettlby by his side, and Madge hanging on to her father's arm. Frettlby opened the gate, and held out his hand.

"Good night, Fitzgerald," he said in a hearty voice; "come down soon again."

"Good-night, Brian, dearest," said Madge, kissing him, "and don't forget to-morrow."

Then father and daughter closed the gate, leaving Brian outside, and walked back to the house.

"Ah!" said Mr. Gorby to himself, "if you only knew what I know, you wouldn't be so precious kind to him."

Brian walked, strolled along the Esplanade, and then crossing over, passed by Gorby and walked on till he was opposite the Esplanade Hotel. Then he leaned his arms on the fence, and, taking off his hat, enjoyed the calm beauty of the hour.

"What a good-looking fellow," murmured Mr. Gorby, in a regretful tone. "I can hardly believe it of him, but the proofs are too clear."

Such a still night, not a breath of wind stirring, for the breeze had long since died away, and Brian could see the white waves breaking on the yellow sands, the long narrow pier running out like a black thread into the sheet of gleaming silver, and away in the distance the long line of the Williamstown lights like a fairy illumination. Over all this fantastic scene of land and water was a sky such as Dore loved—great heavy masses of rain clouds heaped one on top of the other like the rocks the Titans piled to reach Olympus. Then a break in the white woof, and a bit of dark blue sky could be seen glittering with stars, in the midst of which sailed the serene moon shedding down her cold light on the fantastical cloudland beneath, and giving to every one a silver lining. Such a weird bizarre sort of sky that Brian gazed up at it for several minutes, admiring the wonderful beauty of the broken masses of light and shadow, much to the annoyance of Mr. Gorby, who had no eye for the picturesque. At last with a sigh, Mr. Fitzgerald withdrew his eyes from the contemplation of the marvelous, and, lighting a cigarette, walked down the steps on to the pier.

"Suicide, is it?" muttered Mr. Gorby to himself, as he saw the tall, black figure striding resolutely on, a long way