the other Passengers, who had crowded on the bow of the steamboat. It
was only a block or two beyond the place where Randolph had landed that
eventful night. He had to pass it now; but with Miss Avondale clinging
to his arm, with what different feelings! The rain still fell, the day
was fading, but he walked in an enchanted dream, of which the prosaic
umbrella was the mystic tent and magic pavilion. He must needs even
stop at the corner of the wharf, and show her the exact spot where his
unknown benefactor appeared.
"Coming out of the shadow like that man there," she added brightly,
pointing to a figure just emerging from the obscurity of an overhanging
warehouse. "Why, it's your friend the miner!"
Randolph looked. It was indeed the same man, who had probably reached
the wharf by a cross street.
"Let us go on, do!" said Miss Avondale, suddenly tightening her hold of
Randolph's arm in some instinctive feminine alarm. "I don't like this
place."
But Randolph, with the young girl's arm clinging to his, felt supremely
daring. Indeed, I fear he was somewhat disappointed when the stranger
peacefully turned into the junk shop at the corner and left them to
pursue their way.
They at last stopped before some business offices on a central
thoroughfare, where Randolph had a room on the third story. When they
had climbed the flight of stairs he unlocked a door and disclosed a
good-sized apartment which had been intended for an office, but which
was now neatly furnished as a study and bedroom. Miss Avondale smiled at
the singular combination.
"I should fancy," she said, "you would never feel as if you had quite
left the bank behind you." Yet, with her air of protection and mature
experience, she at once began to move one or two articles of furniture
into a more tasteful position, while Randolph, nevertheless a little
embarrassed at his audacity in asking this goddess into his humble
abode, hurriedly unlocked a closet, brought out the portmanteau, and
handed her the letter and photograph.
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