XIV Maradick in a New Rôle—He Afterwards Sees Tony’s Face in a Mirror 279 XV Why It Is to be the Twenty-seventh, and what the Connexion was Between Janet’s Being Frightened and Toby’s Joining the Great Majority 297 PART III THE TOWER XVI Mrs. Lester, Too, Would Like It to be the Twenty-seventh, but Maradick Is Afraid of the Devil 325 XVII Morning and Afternoon of the Twenty- seventh—Tony, Maradick, Janet, and Miss Minns Have a Ride After the Wedding 343 XVIII Afternoon and Evening of the Twenty- seventh—Maradick Goes to Church and Afterwards Pays a Visit to Morelli 368 XIX Night of the Twenty-seventh—Maradick and Mrs. Lester 387 XX Maradick Tells the Family, Has Breakfast with His Wife, and Says Good-bye to Some Friends 402 XXI Six Letters 421 XXII The Place 427 PART I THE ROOM OF THE MINSTRELS CHAPTER I THE PLACE The grey twilight gives to the long, pale stretches of sand the sense of something strangely unreal. As far as the eye can reach, it curves out into the mist, the last vanishing garments, as it were, of some fleeing ghost. The sea comes, smoothly, quite silently, over the breast of it; there is a trembling whisper as it catches the highest stretch of sand and drags it for a moment down the slope, then, with a little sigh, creeps back again a defeated lover. The sky is grey, with an orange light hovering on its outer edges, the last signal of the setting sun. A very faint mist is creeping gradually over the sea, so faint that the silver circle of the rising moon shines quite clearly through the shadows; but it changes the pale yellow of the ghostly sand into a dark grey land without form and void, seeming for a moment to be one with sea and sky, and then rising again, out of obscurity, into definite substance. There is silence here in the creek, save for the rustling and whisper of the sea, but round the bend of the rocks the noises of the town come full upon the ear. The town is built up from the sand on the side of the hill, and rises, tier upon tier, until it finds its pinnacle in the church tower and the roofs of the “Man at Arms.” Now, in the dusk, the lights shine, row upon row, out over the sand. From the market comes the sound of a fair—harsh, discordant tunes softened by the distance.