which I hoped bore my love. My presence there aroused some speculation among the loungers, I think; nevertheless, I waited in deepest anxiety whether, after all, Elma and Hornby had not disembarked at Helsingfors.
Soon after ten o'clock a light shone afar off, and the movement of the police and porters on the quay told me that it was the vessel. Then after a further anxious quarter-of-an-hour it came, amid great shouting and mutual imprecations, slowly alongside the quay, and the passengers at last began to disembark in the pelting rain.
One after another they walked up the gangway, filing into the passport-office and on into the Custom House, people of all sorts and all grades — Swedes, Germans, Finns and Russians — until suddenly, I caught sight of two figures — one a man in a big tweed travelling-coat and a golf-cap, and the other the slight figure of a woman in a long dark cloak and a woollen tam-o'-shanter.
The electric rays fell upon then as they came up the wet gangway together, and there once again I saw the sweet face of the silent woman whom I had grown to love with such fervent desperation.
The man behind her was the same who had entertained me on board the Lola — the man who was said to be the lover of the fugitive Muriel Leithcourt.
Without betraying my presence I watched them pass through the passport-office and Custom House, and then, overhearing the address which Martin Woodroffe gave the isvoshtchik, I stood aside, wet to the skin, and saw them drive away.
