"I have had a note from Kate," he said, "asking
me to call about eleven o'clock to-night, which seems rather a late
hour, but perhaps she wants to talk over something quietly after
old Mrs. Merton retires."
It was not until after my friend's departure that I suddenly
recollected the mysterious interview which I had been told of as
preceding the suicide of young Prescott. Then I thought of the
ravings of poor Reeves, rendered more tragic by the fact that I had
heard that very day of his death. What was the meaning of it all?
Had this woman some baleful secret to disclose which must be known
before her marriage? Was it some reason which forbade her to
marry? Or was it some reason which forbade others to marry her?
I felt so uneasy that I would have followed Cowles, even at the
risk of offending him, and endeavoured to dissuade him from keeping
his appointment, but a glance at the clock showed me that I was too
late.
I was determined to wait up for his return, so I piled some coals
upon the fire and took down a novel from the shelf. My thoughts
proved more interesting than the book, however, and I threw it on
one side. An indefinable feeling of anxiety and depression weighed
upon me. Twelve o'clock came, and then half-past, without any sign
of my friend. It was nearly one when I heard a step in the street
outside, and then a knocking at the door. I was surprised, as I
knew that my friend always carried a key--however, I hurried down
and undid the latch.
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