muttered Riderhood at the lock-house door, looking after him, “if I think there’s water enough in all the Thames to do that for you!” Within five minutes he had taken his departure, and was passing on into the calm distance as he had passed yesterday. Riderhood knew when a fish leaped, by his starting and glancing round.
“Lock ho! Lock!” at intervals all day, and “Lock ho! Lock!” thrice in the ensuing night, but no return of Bradley. The second day was sultry and oppressive. In the afternoon, a thunderstorm came up, and had but newly broken into a furious sweep of rain when he rushed in at the door, like the storm itself.
“You’ve seen him with her!” exclaimed Riderhood, starting up.
“I have.”
“Where?”
“At his journey’s end. His boat’s hauled up for three days. I heard him give the order. Then, I saw him wait for her and meet her. I saw them”—he