Chapter XXVI
Half an hour before this time Swithin St. Cleeve had been sitting in his cabin at the base of the column, working out some figures from observations taken on preceding nights, with a view to a theory that he had in his head on the motions of certain so-called fixed stars. The evening being a little chilly a small fire was burning in the stove, and this and the shaded lamp before him lent a remarkably cosy air to the chamber. He was awakened from his reveries by a scratching at the window-pane like that of the point of an ivy leaf, which he knew to be really caused by the tip of his sweetheart- wife's forefinger. He rose and opened the door to admit her, not without astonishment as to how she had been able to get away from her friends. 'Dearest Viv, why, what's the matter?' he said, perce
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