e polite
conductor begged permission to inform mesdames and monsieur that their
sleeping apartments were prepared for them. Browne accordingly bade
the ladies good-night.

As the young man lay in his sleeping compartment that night, and the
train made its way across France towards its most important sea-port,
Browne's dreams were of many things. At one moment he was back in the
Opera House at Covent Garden, listening to _Lohengrin_, and watching
Katherine's face as each successive singer appeared upon the stage.
Then, as if by magic, the scene changed, and he was on the windy
mountain-side at Merok, and Katherine was looking up at him from her
place of deadly peril a few feet below. He reached down and tried to
save her, but it appeared to be a question of length of arm, and his
was a foot too short. "Pray allow me to help you," said Maas; and
being only too grateful for any assistance, Browne permitted him to do
so. They accordingly caught her by the hands and began to pull. Then
suddenly, without any warning, Maas struck him a terrible blow upon the
head; both holds were instantly loosed, and Katherine was in the act of
falling over the precipice when Browne awoke. Great beads of
perspiration stood upon his forehead, and, under the influence of this
fright, he trembled as he did not remember ever to have done in his
life before. For upwards of an hour he lay awake, listening to the
rhythm of the wheels and the thousand and one noises that a train makes
at night. Then once more he fell asleep, and, as before, dreamt of
Katherine. Equally strange was it that on this occasion also Maas was
destined to prove his adversary. They were in Japan now, and the scene
was a garden in which the Wistaria bloomed luxuriously. Katherine was
standing on a rustic bridge, looking down into the water below, and
Maas was beside her. Suddenly the bridge gave way, and the girl was
precipitated into the water. Though she was drowning, he noticed that
Maas did nothing to help her, but stood upon what remained of the
bridge and taunted her with the knowledge that, if she were drowned,
her mission to the East would be useless. After this no further sleep
was possible. At break of day he accordingly rose and dressed himself.
They were passing through the little town of Saint-Chamas at the time.
It was a lovely morning; not a cloud in the sky, and all the air and
country redolent of life and beauty. It was a day upon which a man