the path; a circumstance which in itself would have seemed trifling, were it not succeeded by others of a more suspicious nature. Meeda had only just recovered from her momentary alarm, and had settled in her mind that her uncle had business which obliged him to sit up late, when, on looking down again, she was surprised to see the light on the path frequently obscured, as if by some dark body passing over it; and this occurring again and again, she discovered, to her inexpressible surprise, that it arose from the entrance of several men through the window from which the light issued.
Meeda, who was a girl of no ordinary courage and strength of mind, at once determined on the course to pursue. Gaining her own room, she proceeded noiselessly to cross the passage which separated it from Elberfeld's, determined to acquaint him at once with—as she imagined—their danger. To her surprise, however, she found her
