Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen. ‘Lord in heaven, did I do that?’ exclaimed Gerald remorsefully. Still, his suspicions were so strong, that he ordered Mendez to remain on guard near the spot all night, and, by the promise of a large reward induced two other men to keep him company. She was not a reversion to type, which intimates the primordial; she suggested rather the incarnation of some goddess of the South Seas.
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