Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. She lifted the sheet and gestured for him to join her. She was ushered into the back of the squad car. But what affair is this of yours?’ But Captain Roding was not attending.
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