splashed with mud. In his eyes was the light of vivid fear, his delicate mouth was twitching still with excitement. In his ears there rang yet the angry cry of th

d their frantic race. Ten, twenty, forty miles an hour at least-off on that wonderful run, the pride of the directors and the despair of rival companies. Nothing could stop them now. All slower traffic stood aside to let them pass, the express with her two great engines vomiting fire and smoke, crawling

f luxury were all unknown. Every seat save the one which he occupied was covered with her belongings. On one was a half-opened dressing-case filled with gold-topped bottles and emitting a faint, delicate perfume. On another was a pile of books and magazines, opposite to him a sable-lined coat, by his s

white hand which held her novel was ablaze with many and wonderful rings. She was evidently tall, without doubt stately. Her black hair, parted in the middle, drooped a little to the side by her ears, her

y you have entered my carriage which is en

, musical, and with the slightest suggestion of a foreign accent. Then

to look inside, and I thought it was an empty ca

be" she remarke

mour in her tone pas

nd there was no other train. I am very sorry to intrude upon you

she reached his face her eyes lingered there. It puzzled and in a sense attracted her. His features were cleanly cut and prominent, his complexion was naturally pale, but wind and sun had combined to stain his cheeks with a slight healthy tan. His eyes were deep-set, keen and bright, the eyes of a visionary perhaps, but afire now with the instant excitement

he repeated d

gage-was that

smi

id. "You are going up for

re was a note of trium

ishes count for anything I shall neve

er of hers. She watched him thoughtfully. A human document such as this was

"is a wonderful p

ards her. The fire seemed

so," he said. "I go

stranger th

e," he replied. "I know only the London of De Quince

ghed g

fferent," she said. "You wi

lips firm

t possible to live there, at any rate. If

ng to friend

ghed s

do not know a soul. What matter? There is life to be liv

m keenly all the time with an interes

spoken of De Quincey who wove fairy fancies about her, and Lamb, who was an affectionate stay-

only he had lived a few months long

who must die before the world will listen to the

ed conf

m not a village prodigy going to London with a pocketful of manuscripts. Don't think that of me. I am going to London because I have been stifled and choked-I want room

made up your mind to leave. It is not so long, you

e flying landscape, were set in a fixed, unseeing stare-surely the fields were peopled with evil memories, and faces in the trees were mocking h

o himself that everything behind it concerned some other person-not him. So wi

si

be disposed of. There are ghosts which will haunt

"and my fingers shall be upon thei

k her he

t smile, "are sometimes very d