he doorway he paused, and looked
about for the clerk Jones. Presently, he saw him walking backwards and
forwards under the shelter of a lean-to, and going up, touched him on
the shoulder.

The man started back.

"Have you got the ticket, Jones?" he asked.

"Lord, sir," said Jones, "I didn't know you in that get-up. Yes, here
it is."

"Is the woman there still?"

"Yes, sir; she's taken a ticket, third-class, to town. She has been
going on like a wild thing because they would not give her any liquor
at the refreshment bar, till at last she frightened them into letting
her have six of brandy. Then she began and told the girl all sorts of
tales about you, sir--said she was going back to London because she
was afraid that if she stopped here you would murder her--and that you
were her lawful husband, and she would have a warrant out against you,
and I don't know what all. I sat by and heard her with my own ears."

"Did she--did she indeed?" said Mr. Quest, with an attempt at a laugh.
"Well, she's a common thief and worse, that's what she is, and by this
time to-morrow I hope to see her safe in gaol. Ah! here comes the
train. Good-night, Jones. I can manage for myself now."

"What's his game?" said Jones to himself as he watched his master slip
on to the platform by a gate instead of going through the booking
office. "Well, I've had four quid out of it, any way, and it's no
affair of mine." And Jones went home to tea.

Meanwhile Mr. Quest was standing on the wet and desolate platform
quite away from the lamps, watching the white lights of the
approaching train rushing on through the storm and night. Presently it
drew up. No passengers got out.

"Now, mam, look sharp if you're going," cried the porter, and the
woman Edith came out of the refreshment room.

"There's the third, forrard there," said the porter, running to the
van to see about the packing of the mails.

On she came, passing quite close to Mr. Quest, so close that he could
hear her swearing at the incivility of the porter. There was a third-
class compartment just opposite, and this she entered. It was one of
those carriages that are still often to be seen on provincial lines in
which the partitions do not go up to the roof, and, if possible, more
vilely lighted than usual. Indeed the light which should have
illuminated the after-half of it had either never been lit or had gone
out. There was not a soul in the whole length of the compartment.

As so