But at the close of the sermon, when the
people stood up to sing, she rose with them; and the half-dazed preacher
sat down, exhausted with emotion, conflict, and effort at self-command.
When he rose once more for the benediction, she was gone; and yet again he
took refuge in the doubt whether she had indeed been present at all.
When Mrs. Robertson had retired, and James was sitting with his host over
their tumbler of toddy, a knock came to the door. Mr. Robertson went to
open it, and James's heart sank within him. But in a moment his host
returned, saying it was a policeman to let him know that a woman was lying
drunk at the bottom of his doorsteps, and to inquire what he wished done
with her.
"I told him," said Mr. Robertson, "to take the poor creature to the
station, and in the morning I would see her. When she's ill the next day,
you see," he added, "I may have a sort of chance with her; but it is
seldom of any use."
A horrible suspicion that it was Isy herself had seized on Blatherwick; and
for a moment he was half inclined to follow the men to the station; but his
friend would be sure to go with him, and what might not come of it! Seeing
that she had kept silent so long, however, it seemed to him more than
probable that she had lost all care about him, and if let alone would say
nothing.
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