and the sun was long down. There was no moon and it was dark on the river with the brilliant darkness of a starry night. He paddled gently past John’s house, scarcely moving the oars; past Mr. Farraday’s and the two moored barges at the Bakery wharf. He drifted under the fig-tree by the Whittakers’, and came near to the house of the Tarrants. The Tarrants’ house, like his own, was on the river side of the road, and their garden ran down to a low wall over the water. As he came out from under the fig-tree he looked up over his shoulder at the house; and Muriel Tarrant was in his mind. There was a figure in a white dress leaning motionless over the wall, and as he looked up the figure stirred sharply. Then he began to tremble with a curious excitement, for he saw that it was Muriel herself. He dipped the oars in the water and stopped the boat under the wall.

She said, very softly, “ Mr. Byrne?”