172
IN A GLASS DARKLY.
way through the crowd, a little man touched his arm, and said to him, in a broad provincial patois—
"Monsieur is walking too fast; he will lose his sick comrade in the throng, for, by my faith, the poor gentleman seems to be fainting."
Montague turned quickly, and observed that Barton did indeed look deadly pale. He hastened to his side.
"My dear fellow, are you ill?" he asked anxiously.
The question was unheeded and twice, repeated, ere Barton stammered—
"I saw him—by , I saw him!"
"Him!—the wretch—who—where now?—where is he?" cried Montague, looking around him.
"I saw him—but he is gone," repeated Barton, faintly.
"But where—where? For God's sake speak," urged Montague, vehemently.
