-bye," she said. "And, once more, thank you ever so much."

His hand closed firmly round hers.

"There's no need. I'm only too glad to have been of any service."

He raised his hat and moved away and Nan could see the slight limp of
which he had spoken--his "souvenir of hell."

The porter fulfilled his obligations and bestowed her in an empty
first-class carriage, even exerting himself to fetch a newspaper boy from
whom she purchased a small sheaf of magazines. The train started and
very soon the restaurant attendant came along. Since she detested the
steamy odour of cooking which usually pervades the dining-car of a train,
she gave instructions that her lunch should be served to her in her own
compartment. This done, she settled down to the quiet monotony of the
journey, ate her lunch in due course, and finally drowsed over a magazine
until she woke with a start to find the train at a standstill. Thinking
she had arrived at St. David's Station, where she must change on to
another line, she sprang up briskly. To her amazement she found they
were not at a station at all. Green fields sloped away from the railway
track and there was neither house nor cottage in sight. The voices of
the guard and ticket-collector in agitated conference sounded just below
and Nan thrust her head out of the window.

"Why are we stopping?" she asked. "Have we run into something?"

The guard looked up irritably. Then, seeing the charming face bent above
him, he softened visibly. Beauty may be only skin deep, but it has an
amazing faculty for smoothing the path of its possessor.

"Pretty near, miss. There's a great piece of timber across the line.
Luckily the driver saw it and just pulled up in time, and a miss is as
good as a mile, isn't it?"

"How horrible!" ejaculated Nan. "Who d'you think put it there?"

"One of they Bolshies, I expect. We've got more of them in England than
we've any need for."

"I hope you'll soon get the line clear?"

The guard shook his head discouragingly.

"Well, it'll take a bit of time, miss. Whoever did, the job did it
thoroughly, and even when we get clear we'll have to go slow and keep a
sharp look-out."

"Then I shall miss my connection at Exeter--on to Abbencombe by the
South-Western?"

"I'm afraid you will, miss."

Her face fell.

"It's better than missing a limb or two, or your life, maybe," observed
the guard with rebuke in his tones.

She nodded and tipped him.

"Much