So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. And ever after it struck him that her backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special significance. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. Of course there were goats. But there was no sign from her. On the floor, underneath the sixth row desks, was an ashtray with a small black dot of blood on its blunt round corner. But his own situation was too perilous to admit of his rendering any assistance to the ill-fated waterman. " "Don't be too sure of that," rejoined Kneebone, snatching up the staff, and aiming a blow at his head, which was fortunately warded off by Mrs.
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