Jermyn was long in coming. My anxiety was almost more than I
could bear.
At last, growing fearful that I had somehow missed him at the
mouth of the dark alley, I walked slowly back in my tracks,
wishing that I had a thicker jacket, since it was beginning to
rain rather smartly. There was a great sort of inn on the side of
the square to which I walked. It had lights on the second floor.
The great windows of that story opened on to balconies, in what
is, I believe, the Spanish way of building. I remember feeling
bitterly how cheery the warm lights looked, inside there, where
the people were. I stood underneath the balcony out of the rain,
looking out sharply towards the alley, expecting at each instant
to see Mr. Jermyn. Still he did not come. I dared not move from
where I was lest I should miss him. I racked my brains to try to
remember if I had obeyed orders exactly. I wondered whether I had
come to the right square. I began to imagine all kinds of evil
things which might have happened to him. Perhaps that secret
fiend of a woman had been too many for him. Perhaps some other
secret service people had waylaid him as he entered the town.
Perhaps he was even then in bonds in some cellar, being examined
for letters by some of the usurper's men.
CHAPTER XI. AURELIA
While I was fretting myself into a state of hysteria, the catch
of one of the great window-doors above me was pushed back.
Someone came out on the balcony just over my head.
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