Jonathan looked about him, holding up the lantern, and shrugged his shoulders, with a pitying grimace.  ‘Here it is,’ he said.  ’See the damp on the floor, look at the moss; where there’s moss you may be sure that it’s rheumaticky.  Try and get near that fire for to warm yourself; it’ll blow the coat off your back.  And with a young gentleman with a face like yours, as pale as a tallow-candle, I’d be afeard of a churchyard cough and a galloping decline,’ says Jonathan, naming the maladies with gloomy gusto, ’or the cold might strike and turn your blood,’ he added.

Mr. Archer fairly laughed.  ‘My good Mr. Holdaway,’ said he, ’I was born with that same tallow-candle face, and the only fear that you inspire me with is the fear that I intrude unwelcomely upon your private hours.  But I think I can promise you that I am very little troublesome, and I am inclined to hope that the terms which I can offer may still pay you the derangement.’

‘Yes, the terms,’ said Jonathan, ’I was thinking of that.  As you say, they are very small,’ and he shook his head.

‘Unhappily, I can afford no more,’ said Mr. Archer.  ’But this we have arranged already,’ he added with a certain stiffness; ’and as I am aware that Miss Holdaway has matter to communicate, I will, if you permit, retire at once.  To-night I must bivouac; to-morrow my trunk is to follow from the “Dragon.”  So if you will show me to my room I shall wish you a good slumber and a better awakening.’

Jonathan silently gave the lantern to Nance, and she, turning and curtseying in the doorway, proceeded to conduct their guest up the broad winding staircase of the tower.  He followed with a very brooding face.

‘Alas!’ cried Nance, as she entered the room, ’your fire black out,’ and, setting down the lantern, she clapped upon her knees before the chimney and began to rearrange the charred and still smouldering remains.  Mr. Archer looked about the gaunt apartment with a sort of shudder.  The great height, the bare stone, the shattered windows, the aspect of the uncurtained bed, with one of its four fluted columns broken short, all struck a chill upon his fancy.  From this dismal survey his eyes returned to Nance crouching before the fire, the candle in one hand and artfully puffing at the embers; the flames as they broke forth played upon the soft outline of her cheek—­she was alive and young, coloured with the bright hues of life, and a woman.  He looked upon her, softening; and then sat down and continued to admire the picture.

‘There, sir,’ said she, getting upon her feet, ’your fire is doing bravely now.  Good-night.’

He rose and held out his hand.  ‘Come,’ said he, ’you are my only friend in these parts, and you must shake hands.’

She brushed her hand upon her skirt and offered it, blushing.

‘God bless you, my dear,’ said he.

And then, when he was alone, he opened one of the windows, and stared down into the dark valley.  A gentle wimpling of the river among stones ascended to his ear; the trees upon the other bank stood very black against the sky; farther away an owl was hooting.  It was dreary and cold, and as he turned back to the hearth and the fine glow of fire, ‘Heavens!’ said he to himself, ’what an unfortunate destiny is mine!’