” Mr. Wood's anxiety respecting the fugitive was speedily relieved by hearing another waterman busy himself in preparation for starting; and, shortly after, the dip of a second pair of oars sounded upon the river. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. The music confused and distracted her, and made her struggle against a feeling of intoxication. And to think that man got it all out of the poorest little love-story for a respectable titled lady! Have you read of it?” “Never. "Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. “Something.
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