It was noticeable that all this time she never once looked back.  But there was now a great change in the manner of her going, and instead of going at a steady quick walk with her arms folded before her,—­among the dark dismal arches she went in a wild way with her arms opened wide, as if they were wings and she was flying to her death.

We were on the wharf and she stopped.  I stopped.  I saw her hands at her bonnet-strings, and I rushed between her and the brink and took her round the waist with both my arms.  She might have drowned me, I felt then, but she could never have got quit of me.

Down to that moment my mind had been all in a maze and not half an idea had I had in it what I should say to her, but the instant I touched her it came to me like magic and I had my natural voice and my senses and even almost my breath.

“Mrs. Edson!” I says “My dear!  Take care.  How ever did you lose your way and stumble on a dangerous place like this?  Why you must have come here by the most perplexing streets in all London.  No wonder you are lost, I’m sure.  And this place too!  Why I thought nobody ever got here, except me to order my coals and the Major in the parlours to smoke his cigar!”—­for I saw that blessed man close by, pretending to it.

“Hah—­Hah—­Hum!” coughs the Major.

“And good gracious me” I says, “why here he is!”

“Halloa! who goes there?” says the Major in a military manner.

“Well!” I says, “if this don’t beat everything!  Don’t you know us Major Jackman?”

“Halloa!” says the Major.  “Who calls on Jemmy Jackman?” (and more out of breath he was, and did it less like life than I should have expected.)

“Why here’s Mrs. Edson Major” I says, “strolling out to cool her poor head which has been very bad, has missed her way and got lost, and Goodness knows where she might have got to but for me coming here to drop an order into my coal merchant’s letter-box and you coming here to smoke your cigar!—­And you really are not well enough my dear” I says to her “to be half so far from home without me.  And your arm will be very acceptable I am sure Major” I says to him “and I know she may lean upon it as heavy as she likes.”  And now we had both got her—­thanks be Above!—­one on each side.

She was all in a cold shiver and she so continued till I laid her on her own bed, and up to the early morning she held me by the hand and moaned and moaned “O wicked, wicked, wicked!” But when at last I made believe to droop my head and be overpowered with a dead sleep, I heard that poor young creature give such touching and such humble thanks for being preserved from taking her own life in her madness that I thought I should have cried my eyes out on the counterpane and I knew she was safe.

Being well enough to do and able to afford it, me and the Major laid our little plans next day while she was asleep worn out, and so I says to her as soon as I could do it nicely: