For a part of the distance between Auburn and Newcastle the road -- first on one side of a creek¹（小溪） and then on the other -- occupies the whole bottom of the ravine（沟壑，山涧） , being partly cut out of the steep hillside, and partly built up with boulders²（岩石） removed from the creek-bed by the miners. The hills are wooded, the course of the ravine is sinuous³. In a dark night careful driving is required in order not to go off into the water. The night that I have in memory was dark, the creek a torrent⁴, swollen⁵ by a recent storm. I had driven up from Newcastle and was within about a mile of Auburn in the darkest and narrowest part of the ravine, looking intently ahead of my horse for the roadway. Suddenly I saw a man almost under the animal's nose, and reined⁶ in with a jerk that came near setting the creature upon its haunches（腰部，臀部） .

'I beg your pardon,' I said; 'I did not see you, sir.'

'You could hardly be expected to see me,' the man replied civilly, approaching the side of the vehicle; 'and the noise of the creek prevented my hearing you.'

I at once recognized the voice, although five years had passed since I had heard it. I was not particularly well pleased to hear it now.

'You are Dr. Dorrimore, I think,' said I.

'Yes; and you are my good friend Mr. Manrich. I am more than glad to see you -- the excess,' he added, with a light laugh, 'being due to the fact that I am going your way, and naturally expect an invitation to ride with you.'

'Which I extend with all my heart.'

That was not altogether true.

Dr. Dorrimore thanked me as he seated himself beside me, and I drove cautiously forward, as before. Doubtless it is fancy, but it seems to me now that the remaining distance was made in a chill fog; that I was uncomfortably cold; that the way was longer than ever before, and the town, when we reached it, cheerless, forbidding, and desolate⁷. It must have been early in the evening, yet I do not recollect⁸ a light in any of the houses nor a living thing in the streets. Dorrimore explained at some length how he happened to be there, and where he had been during the years that had elapsed since I had seen him. I recall the fact of the narrative⁹, but none of the facts narrated¹⁰. He had been in foreign countries and had returned -- this is all that my memory retains, and this I already knew. As to myself I cannot remember that I spoke¹¹ a word, though doubtless I did.