He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. ” “That is quite untrue,” she declared cheerfully. A crowd was collected round the fellow, who was rapidly disposing of his stock. He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. He must win this man's confidence, even at the risk of being called mad. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully.
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