He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. "I haven't a word to say, Ah Cum, not a word. On gaining a stack of chimneys at the back of the house, he came to a pause, and again unmasked his lantern. ‘I don’t know what the devil you’re talking about. "Is it poison?" she asked. Of course, he had no idea who I was. "Impossible!" exclaimed the widow, wildly. Whenever Ah Cum (whose normal stride was sufficient to keep him at the side of her chair) pointed out something of interest, she had to strain the cords in her neck to focus her glance upon the object. They were silent for a time. Then they rode off at speed. Something he saw there made him feel for a moment ashamed.
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