” The official shrugged his shoulders. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. ’ The old man simply stared at her. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. Earles drew out his cheque book. "Here I am, Captain," cried a voice from without. A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street.
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