CHAPTER IV--MINGLING THREADS.
It was nearly seven before Mr.Archer left his apartment.

On the landing he found another door beside his own opening on a roofless corridor, and presently he was walking on the top of the ruins.

On one hand he could look down a good depth into the green court-yard; on the other his eye roved along the downward course of the river, the wet woods all smoking, the shadows long and blue, the mists golden and rosy in the sun, here and there the water flashing across an obstacle.

His heart expanded and softened to a grateful melancholy, and with his eye fixed upon the distance, and no thought of present danger, he continued to stroll along the elevated and treacherous promenade.
A terror-stricken cry rose to him from the courtyard.

He looked down, and saw in a glimpse Nance standing below with hands clasped in horror and his own foot trembling on the margin of a gulf.