kareta.

Suddenly Velasco was conscious of a voice at his elbow, whispering to
him out of the silence: "Thank you, Monsieur, ah, I thank you! We
shall be at the station directly; then a few hours more and it will
be--over! You will never see--me--again! I thank you--I thank you
with all my heart."

The voice was soft and low, like a violin when the mute is on the
strings. He could scarcely hear it for the lurching of the carriage.
The horses gave a final plunge forward, and then fell back suddenly,
reined in by an iron hand, and the kareta came to a standstill.

The station was all light and confusion; porters were rushing about,
truckmen and officials, workmen carrying coloured lanterns. "Not a
second to spare!" cried Velasco, "Send the trunks after me,
Bobo--Here--my valise!"

He snatched up his violin-case, and the slim, dark-veiled figure darted
beside him. "If we miss it!" he heard her crying in his ear, "I shall
never forgive myself! I shall--never--forgive myself!"

"We shan't miss it!" cried Velasco, "I have the tickets, the passports
for you and for me! Here--to the left! The doors are still open!"

An official rushed forward and took the valise from Velasco's hand:
"Here, sir--here! First class compartment!"

Velasco nodded breathlessly, and the two sank down on the crimson
cushions; the door slammed. "Ye gods!" They were alone in the
compartment; they were saved! Velasco gave a little laugh of triumph.
He was hugging his violin close in his arms, and opposite him sat the
slim veiled figure. She was looking at him from behind the veil--and
she was his wife. "Ye gods!" he laughed again.

"Why are you trembling?" he said, "We are safe now. I told you I had
the passports. Are you cold, or afraid?--You shake like a leaf!"

The girl put out her hand, touching his. "Did you see?" she breathed,
"There--on the platform--Boris, the Chief of the Third Section!--He was
watching!"

Velasco laughed again aloud, happily, like a boy: "What of it? Let him
watch! Put up your veil, Kaya. Great heavens, what a night it has
been! My heart is going still like a hammer--is yours? Lean back on
the cushions--put up your veil. Let me see you once,--let me see you!
Look at me as you did in the Theatre--Kaya! Don't tremble."

"He is there," breathed the girl, "I see him behind the curtain! He is
talking to the official--The train is late and it doesn't start. Why
doesn't it start?"

She gave a