Ruth obeyed, not willingly, but because there was something hypnotic in the authoritative tone. After he had eaten dinner with Ruth, he had gone to McClintock's; and he had heard music such as he had heard only in the great concert halls. “I am sorry. Where's Jonathan?" Inquiries were instantly made after that individual, but he was nowhere to be found. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said. He was pretty successful in Manchester,—a town which may be said to have been the head-quarters of the disaffected. He fancied, indeed, that he beheld a figure spring upon the starling at the moment when the boats came in contact; but, as he could perceive no one near him, he concluded he must have been mistaken.
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