It was one evening towards the end of September when, for the first time since his return home, the moon was full. He roamed restlessly in the glades of the park, the dry leaves rustled at his feet, and the autumn wind shook the branches of the trees. The moonbeams shimmered on the grass like flocks of white sheep. Before him the shrubs rose in a dark, jagged line of wall. An impulse of sinister curiosity suddenly got the better of the superstitious repugnance that had hitherto held him back, and he plunged through the thicket that, with a sort of protecting air, hid the path. The descent to the river was steep, almost perpendicular, and the mirror-like surface of the water was entirely concealed by alder-bushes. A faint rippling and splashing below fell mysteriously on his ear. From the top of the precipice a railed plank shot boldly out into mid-air. A rude scaffolding, planted firmly in the rock of the precipice, supported it with iron bars. On the opposite bank the trunk of a giant oak formed the support. In the middle there was a yawning gap of from ten to twelve feet. Like two arms longingly outstretched but never meeting, the planks branched forth on either side above the abysmal depths. If they had never reached each other the crime would never have come to pass. But an easier job for a joiner could not be conceived. The plank on this side had two loose boards, which, by means of a wedge, could easily be pushed across; and the position of the hand-rail, by being unhinged, could also be reversed. Everything seemed to have been arranged expressly to facilitate the treacherous transaction. As a memorial of eternal shame, the dark, crude structure loomed out through the white mists of the brilliant night. Beneath, the splashing from the invisible river grew more pronounced. It sounded as if its waters were still foaming with rage at the deed that so long ago had been enacted near at hand, and which death itself could not consign to oblivion. Like a man in a dream, he stepped on to the plank, and looked down on the silver surface, which seemed to be emitting myriads of diamond sparks. Then he beheld the figure of a woman, who stood up to her knees in the water, with her skirts pinned round her waist. It was Regina, doing her washing, and wringing out the articles among the sandbanks and osiers. His brows contracted. That he should encounter her _here_ of all places! But in common justice he was obliged to admit it was not her fault. Whenever she could she avoided him, and he had no reason to complain that he saw too much of her.