Inexorable fate, whose compulsion directed that gaze! If raiment apart from its wearer be unseemly, how much more—
About thirty yards from her, wading down the stream, and tugging the painter of his recovered boat, advanced Mr. Fogo.
To add a final touch of horror, that gentleman, finding that the damp on his spectacles completely dimmed his vision, had deposited them in the boat, and was therefore blind to the approaching catastrophe. Unconscious even of observation, he advanced nearer and nearer.
Miss Limpenny's emotion found vent in a squeal.
Mr. Fogo, heard, halted, and gazed blankly around.
"How singular!" he murmured. "I could have sworn I heard a cry."
He made another step. The sound was repeated, more shrilly.
"Again! And, dear me, it sounds human—as of some fellow-creature in distress."
"Go away! Go away at once!"
"Eh? Bless my soul, what can it be?" Mr. Fogo stared in the direction whence the voice proceeded, but of course without seeing anything.