Men who have since won a mention in the pages of history were there that
day, and nearly all of them had a word for David Spafford and his lovely
wife. Many of them stood for some time and talked with her. Mr. Thurlow
Weed was the last one to leave them before the train was actually ready
for starting, and he laid an urging hand upon David's arm as he went.
"Then you think you cannot go with us? Better come. Mrs. Spafford will let
you I am sure. You're not afraid are you, Mrs. Spafford? I am sure you are
a brave woman. Better come, Spafford."

But David laughingly thanked him again as he had thanked others, and said
that he would not be able to go, as he and his wife had other plans, and
he must go on to Albany as soon as the train had started.

Marcia looked up at him half worshipfully as he said this, wondering what
it was, instinctively knowing that it was for her sake he was giving up
this honor which they all wished to put upon him. It would naturally have
been an interesting thing to him to have taken this first ride behind the
new engine "Dewitt Clinton."

Then, suddenly, like a chill wind from a thunder cloud that has stolen up
unannounced and clutched the little wild flowers before they have time to
bind up their windy locks and duck their heads under cover, there happened
a thing that clutched Marcia's heart and froze all the joy in her veins.

CHAPTER XXIX

A coach was approaching filled with people, some of them Marcia knew; they
were friends and neighbors from their own village, and behind it plodding
along came a horse with a strangely familiar gait drawing four people. The
driver was old Mr. Heath looking unbelievingly at the scene before him. He
did not believe that an engine would be able to haul a train any
appreciable distance whatever, and he believed that he had come out here
to witness this entire company of fanatics circumvented by the ill-natured
iron steed who stood on the track ahead surrounded by gaping boys and a
flock of quacking ganders, living symbol of the people who had come to see
the thing start; so thought Mr. Heath. He told himself he was as much of a
goose as any of them to have let this chit of a woman fool him into coming
off out here when he ought to have been in the hay field to-day.

By his side in all the glory of shimmering blue with a wide white lace
bertha and a bonnet with a steeple crown wreathed about heavily with roses
sat Ka