A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. “I loathe afternoon concerts, and——” She was really like her sister he thought, impressed for a moment by the soft brilliancy of her smile. His pride, however, would not suffer him to interfere with their proceedings; much less could he bring himself to acknowledge that he had been in the wrong, and entreat Lady Trafford to remain, though he was well aware that her life might be endangered if she travelled by night. According to Wu, the young man had not opened his eyes once during the afternoon. And, while the turnkey was busy with the keys, she whispered to the black, "Follow him, Caliban. Before retracing his steps, however, he allowed his gaze to range over the vast and beautiful prospect spread out beneath him, which is now hidden, from the traveller's view by the high walls of the General Cemetery, and can, consequently, only be commanded from the interior of that attractive place of burial,—and which, before it was intersected by canals and railroads, and portioned out into hippodromes, was exquisite indeed. “You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed. Silk. Take care he don't see you,—and bring me word where he goes, and what he does.
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