Visions of himself walking the decks of the great brig, travelling south into warm latitudes, becoming accustomed to the infinite horizon, to new stars in the sky, to the miles of lightless water beneath him alternated with moments of physical paralysis, when he would find himself stopped in his tracks by a different imagining, a vision of Jane Adeane in her white dress – tall Jane, his Jane, the only woman he would ever love. Always, she was walking towards him and on her face was a serene smile and she held out her arms, as if to beckon him to her, and then when he reached her, she was no longer there.

MIDNIGHT

Towards the end of his journey back to Bath, Ross found himself disconcerted by the smell of his own body. It was as if the mephitic stink of the Rainsford still clung to him, or else had insinuated itself into his nose so completely that with every breath he took he was forced to inhale it again.

Arriving late in the town, he went to his lodgings, found fresh clothes and took up the keys to the Baths, which, as a doctor, he had the right to visit after they’d closed for the night. The thought of the soothing waters of the Hot Room was so consoling to him that he found himself pacing fast through the streets in his impatience to get there.

Now, he stood naked at the edge of the bath and paused for a moment. In the midnight dark, with one candle lit in a sconce, its fragile light making tiny loops of brightness on the water, the place appeared magically beautiful to him and he entered into the warm depths with feelings of relief and gratitude. He immersed himself completely, not minding if the water stung his eyes. He stayed very still for a long moment, then slowly surfaced.

He rubbed his face and looked down the length of the bath. He’d assumed that he was quite alone there, but now he saw that, at the far end, just visible through the steam which rose from the heated water, there was a shadowy figure standing silently, watching him.

At once, his own nakedness embarrassed him. He’d spurned the conventional white shift which bathers were commanded to put on because he’d assumed that no one would be at the Baths at this late hour and because he wished every cranny of his face and body to be cleansed of the stench of the Rainsford. But he decided not to worry about this. He counted on the darkness and the steam to conceal his body and began, gently, to rub his skin clean. No doubt, he thought, the other man is a doctor – and what did nakedness signify to doctors, who habitually saw not just the whole exterior of a man, but something of his interior, too?

Then, by the disturbance of the bath, he realised that the stranger had begun to swim towards him. He rubbed his eyes. The candle flickered and almost went out, but flared up again more brightly. And in this instant of brightness Ross saw that the person coming nearer and nearer to him was Jane. She swam strongly. Her hair, plaited into a simple braid, caressed the sleeve of her shift. Ross blinked in awe and disbelief. That he should meet her here, in the deep midnight, in his nakedness, was so unlooked for, so wonderfully strange, that he almost felt like breaking into laughter. He called out her name.