miles
above.

But Armitage knew better. It was evident that he had quietly slipped out
on the platform of the car after the regular passengers had got out of
the way, and let himself off into the darkness on the side opposite the
station. Thence he had an open and unimpeded walk of a few hundred yards
until he reached the common, and then, when overtaken by the hotel
omnibus, he could jump aboard and ride. There was only one road, only
one way over to the hotel, and he could not miss it. There was no doubt
now that, whoever he was, the night visitor had come down on the evening
train from the city; and his return ticket would indicate that he meant
to go back the way he came. It was half-past ten when that train
arrived. It was nearly midnight when the man appeared at the cottage
window. It was after two when Armitage gave up the search and went to
bed. It was possible for the man to have walked to Lakeville, six miles
south, and reached the station there in abundant time to take the
up-train which passed Sablon, without stopping, a little before
daybreak. If he took that train, and if he was Jerrold, he would have
been in the city before seven, and could have been at Fort Sibley before
or by eight o'clock. But Chester's despatch showed clearly that at
8.30--the hour for signing the company morning reports--Mr. Jerrold was
not at his post. Was he still in the neighborhood and waiting for the
noon train? If so, could he be confronted on the cars and accused of his
crime? He looked at his watch; it was nearly eleven, and he must push on
to the hotel before that hour, report to the colonel, then hasten back
to the station. He sprang to his feet, and was just about to mount,
when a vision of white and scarlet came suddenly into view. There,
within twenty feet of him, making her dainty way through the shrubbery
from the direction of the church, sunshine and shadow alternately
flitting across her lovely face and form, Alice Renwick stepped forth
into the pathway, and, shading her eyes with her hand, gazed along the
leafy lane towards the road, as though expectant of another's coming.
Then, attracted by the beauty of the golden-rod, she bent and busied
herself with gathering in the yellow sprays. Armitage, with one foot in
the stirrup, stood stock-still, half in surprise, half stunned by a
sudden and painful thought. Could it be that she was there in hopes of
meeting--any one?

He retook his foot from the stirrup, and, rela