ad feared!--that Saltash would fail to hold her against
him. Again, a deep compassion came over Jake, stirring the very depths
of him. Poor little girl, flung to and fro as flotsam in the cruel surf
of life's breakers! He had done his best to deliver her, but Fate had
been against him. Fate had ordained that she should be the victim of this
man's caprice, the slave of impulses which might or might not be her
destruction. It was as if he watched her trying to walk on a quicksand.
And he was powerless to help her. Saltash had defeated him, and he had no
insight into his motives. Unstable, baffling, irresponsible as a monkey
that swings from tree to tree, he had snatched his prize, and even Jake,
who knew him better than most, could only speculate as to whether he
would carry it high above disaster or tire and idly fling it away. Some
vagrant sense of honour seemed to have actuated him so far, but never
yet had he known such a motive to last for long. The man's face was
beyond him, too fantastic for comprehension. He recognized that he was
capable of greatness, but very few were the occasions on which he had
achieved it. If the motive power were lacking in this instance, Toby's
chances were indeed small.

He found an empty carriage and threw his belongings on to a seat. The
train was not a favourite one, and there would be no crowd. He had some
minutes to wait, and he lighted his pipe and began to pace the platform
unencumbered. A few travellers straggling by eyed him with some interest.
He was not a man to be passed unnoticed. The massive, thick-set shoulders
had a bull-dog strength that must have marked him in any crowd. His
height was unremarkable, but there was power in every dominant line of
him. He had the free carriage of one accustomed to the wide places of the
earth.

He took small note of his fellow-travellers, being engrossed in his own
thoughts. He wondered how Maud would regard the situation, and half
wished she had been with him to deal with it. For Maud possessed
undoubted influence over Saltash. He reflected that she was probably
the only person in the world who did.

He had strolled almost to the barrier and was in the act of turning
back when something--some impulse for which he could never afterwards
account--induced him to pause and take stock of the passengers passing
through. The train was almost due to start, and there was some slight
confusion and a quickening of feet on the platform. He realized