He tore a half-sheet from the letter in his pocket, scribbled a few words upon it, and put it into Mary's hand. The woman, with her shawl over her head, ran past the lamphouse towards the entrance-gate as fast as her age would let her, while George rejoined Madan. "Ah, there he is!" For the small, lean figure of the inspector was already passing the gate. Tressady hurried to meet him.

Then he beckoned to Madan, and the two walked in close converse towards the lamphouse, discussing a plan of action. As they passed slowly along the bank the eyes of the miserable terror-stricken throng to either side followed every movement. But there was not a sound from anyone.