There she sat, she knew not how long, listening, listening, like a hunted hare; her whole faculties concentrated in the one sense of hearing; her eyes wandering vacantly over the black saws of rock, and glistening oar-weed beds, and bright phosphoric sea.

Thank Heaven, there was not a ripple to break the silence.

Ah, what was that sound within?
She pressed her ear against the rock, to hear more surely.
A rumbling as of stones rolled down.

And then,--was it a fancy, or were her powers of hearing, intensified by excitement, actually equal to discern the chink of coin?
Who knows?
but in another moment she had glided in, silently, swiftly, holding her very breath; and saw her mother kneeling on the ground, the lanthorn by her side, and in her hand the long-lost belt.
She did not speak, she did not move.

She always knew, in her heart of hearts, that so it was: but when the sin took bodily shape, and was there before her very eyes, it was too dreadful to speak of, to act upon yet.