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cheaper sort of canary wine to a few seafaring men； who would sit there trolling their ditties； and telling their stories of Drake； Hawkins； and Grenville； till they toppled off the benches and rolled asleep on the sanded floor。 The darkness was more passionate to his swollen and violent heart。 He listened to every footfall； speculated on every sound。 Each drunken shout and each wail from some poor wretch laid in the straw or in other distress cut his heart to the quick； as if it boded ill omen to his venture。 Yet； he had no fear for Sasha。 Her courage made nothing of the adventure。 She would e alone； in her cloak and trousers； booted like a man。 Light as her footfall was； it would hardly be heard； even in this silence。
So he waited in the darkness。 Suddenly he was struck in the face by a blow； soft； yet heavy； on the side of his cheek。 So strung with expectation was he； that he started and put his hand to his sword。 The blow was repeated a dozen times on forehead and cheek。 The dry frost had lasted so long that it took him a minute to realize that these were raindrops falling； the blows were the blows of the rain。 At first； they fell slowly； deliberately； one by one。 But soon the six drops became sixty； then six hundred； then ran themselves together in a steady spout of water。 It was as if the hard and consolidated sky poured itself forth in one profuse fountain。 In the space of five minutes Orlando was soaked to the skin。
Hastily putting the horses under cover； he sought shelter beneath the lintel of the door whence he could still observe the courtyard。 The air was thicker now than ever； and such a steaming and droning rose from the downpour that no footfall of man or beast could be heard above it。 The roads； pitted as they were with great holes； would be under water and perhaps impassable。 But of what effect this would have upon their flight he scarcely thought。 All his senses were bent upon gazing along the cobbled pathway—gleaming in the light of the lantern—for Sasha’s ing。 Sometimes； in the darkness； he seemed to see her wrapped about with rain strokes。 But the phantom vanished。 Suddenly； with an awful and ominous voice； a voice full of horror and alarm which raised every hair of anguish in Orlando’s soul； St Paul’s struck the first stroke of midnight。 Four times more it struck remorselessly。 With the superstition of a lover； Orlando had made out that it was on the sixth stroke that she would e。 But the sixth stroke echoed away； and the seventh came and the eighth； and to his apprehensive mind they seemed notes first heralding and then proclaiming death and disaster。 When the twelfth struck he knew that his doom was sealed。 It was useless for the rational part of him to reason； she might be late； she might be prevented； she might have missed her way。 The passionate and feeling heart of Orlando knew the truth。 Other clocks struck； jangling one after another。 The whole world seemed to ring with the news of her deceit and his derision。 The old suspicions subterraneously at work in him rushed forth from concealment openly。 He was bitten by a swarm of snakes； each more poisonous than the last。 He stood in the doorway in the tremendous rain without moving。 As the minutes passed； he sagged a little at the knees。 The downpour rushed on。 In the thick of it； great guns seemed to boom。 Huge noises as of the tearing and rending of oak trees could be heard。 There were also wild cries and terrible inhuman groanings。 But Orlando stood there immovable till Paul’s clock struck two； and then； crying aloud with an awful irony； and all his teeth showing； ‘Jour de ma vie！’ he dashed the lantern to the ground； mounted his horse and galloped he knew not where。
Some blind instinct； for he was past reasoning； must have driven him to take the river bank in the direction of the sea。 For when the dawn broke； which it did with unusual suddenness； the sky turning a pale yellow and the rain almost ceasing； he found himself on the banks of the Thames off Wapping。 Now a sight of the most extraordinary nature met his eyes。 Where； for three months and more； there had been solid ice of such thickness that it seemed permanent as stone； and a whole gay city had been stood on its pavement； was now a race of turbulent yellow waters。 The river had gained its freedom in the night。 It was as if a sulphur spring （to which view many philosophers inclined） had risen from the volcanic regions beneath and burst the ice asunder with such vehemence that it swept the huge and massy fragments furiously apart。 The mere look of the water was enough to turn one giddy。 All was riot and confusion。 The river was strewn with icebergs。 Some of these were as broad as a bowling green and as high as a house； others no bigger than a man’s hat； but most fantastically twisted。 Now would e down a whole convoy of ice blocks sinking everything that stood in their way。 Now； eddying and swirling like a tortured serpent； the river would seem to be hurtling itself between the fragments and tossing them from bank to bank； so that they could be heard smashing against the piers and pillars。 But what was the most awful and inspiring of terror was the sight of the human creatures who had been trapped in the night and now paced their twisting and precarious islands in the utmost agony of spirit。 Whether they jumped into the flood or stayed on the ice their doom was certain。 Sometimes quite a cluster of these poor creatures would e down together； some on their knees； others suckling their babies。 One old man seemed to be reading aloud from a holy book。 At other times； and his fate perhaps was the most dreadful； a solitary wretch would stride his narrow tenement alone。 As they swept out to sea； some could be heard crying vainly for help； making wild promises to amend their ways； confessing their sins and vowing altars and wealth if God would hear their prayers。 Others were so dazed with terror that they sat immovable and silent looking steadfastly before them。 One crew of young watermen or post–boys； to judge by their liveries； roared and shouted the lewdest tavern songs； as if in bravado； and were dashed against a tree and sunk with blasphemies on their lips。 An old nobleman—for