hese
arms."

That was how I learnt the strangest tale that ever a man was told, and
knew the miracle to which I owed my life.

It may be that Bob Masters was a coward. He always said that he was.
Personally I do not believe it, for he had the sweetest nature I ever
met.

He had nowhere to go to in England and seemed to have no friends. So I
made him come down with me to Englehart, that dear old country seat of
my family in the Western shires which was now mine.

Nancy lived in that country, too.

There was no reason why we should not get married at once. We had waited
long enough.

I can see again the old, ivy-grown church where Nancy and I were wed,
and Bob Masters standing by my side as best man.

I remember feeling in his pocket for the ring, and as I did so, I felt a
hand grasp mine for a moment.

Then there was the reception afterwards, and speech-making--the usual
sort of thing.

Later Nancy and I drove off to the station.

We had not said good-bye to Bob, for he'd insisted on driving to the
station with the luggage; said he was going to see the last of us there.

He was waiting for us in the yard when we reached it, and walked with us
on to the platform.

We stood there chatting about one thing and another, when I noticed that
Nancy was not talking much and seemed rather pale. I was just going to
remark on it when we heard the whistle of the train. There is a sharp
curve in the permanent way outside the station, so that a train is on
you all of a sudden.

Suddenly to my horror I saw Nancy sway backwards towards the edge of the
platform. I tried vainly to catch her as she reeled and fell--right in
front of the oncoming train. I sprang forward to leap after her, but
hands grasped me and flung me back so violently that I fell down on the
platform.

It was Bob Masters who took the place that should have been mine, and
leapt upon the metals.

I could not see what happened then. The station-master says he saw Nancy
lifted from before the engine when it was right upon her. He says it was
as if she was lifted by the wind. She was quite close to Masters. "Near
enough for him to have lifted her, sir, if he'd had arms." The two of
them staggered for a moment, and together fell clear of the train.

Nancy was little the worse for the awful accident, bruised, of course,
but poor Masters was unconscious.

We carried him into the waiting-room, laid him on the cushions there,
and sent hot-foot for the doct