I've foiled him hitherto, and will foil him yet. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. I am a little afraid. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances.
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