It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. It was not the arrival of the guests, but merely the maid moving about in the hall. Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard below. He was now at the entrance of the chapel, and striking the door over which he had previously climbed a violent blow with the bar, it flew open. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church.
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