particular intimacy, and had nothing hidden beneath its surface—was the truth. The relief to himself was wonderfully great. All his love for her, that he had been angrily trying to repress, increased tenfold: and he began to see that the love might indeed go on to fruition. At least, that if it did not do so, the fault would lie in his own insensate folly. If he could only stop this commotion about Bell, so that the man might rest where he was, undiscovered, he should make his way with Rosaline. But the public seemed anything but inclined to let it stop there: and Blase Pellet gave many a hard word to the said public. Just at present Trennach appeared to have nothing to do but to go about suggesting disagreeable surmises.

One story led to a second; one supposition to another. From the first startling rumour, that Bell might be lying at the bottom of the shaft (as shown to Mr. Pellet in a remarkable dream), Trennach passed on

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