Herman, in the thick darkness, placed himself against the pillar, and Dermoyne, firmly grasping his left hand, crept behind it.
Thus they stood for many minutes, awaiting the approach of Herman's friend. In the dark and stillness those moments seemed so many ages.
A bell, striking the hour of four, resounded over the city.
At length a step was heard, and then a faint cough,—
"Are you here?" said a voice; and Dermoyne, from his place of concealment, beheld a dimly-defined figure approach the third pillar.
"I am," answered Barnhurst.
"Who are you?" said the voice of the unknown.
"I am Herman Barnhurst."—His voice was low but distinct.
"How shall I know that you are the Barnhurst whom I seek?" asked the unknown.
There was a pause. Barnhurst seemed to hesitate: