Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. It was the girl. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. Towards night, however, he ventured out, and walked on towards London. Something in his tone pinched her heart. "I did see them on the platform of the bridge—the child and his preserver! They were not struck by the fallen ruin, nor whelmed in the roaring flood,—or, if they were, they escaped as I escaped.
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