frightened doe. But she did not change her position, and she
continued to gaze up the long stretch of line as though waiting for
something.

"What on earth is she doing?" whispered Billy. "There are no wind-flowers
there."

Scott slipped quietly to the ground. "You wait here!" he said. "Hold my
animal, will you?"

He left the bridge, retracing his steps, and climbed a railing that
fenced the wood. In a moment he disappeared among the trees, and Billy
was left to watch and listen in unaccountable suspense.

The morning was dull, and a desolate wind moaned among the bare
tree-tops. He shivered a little. There was something uncanny in the
atmosphere, something that was evil. He kept his eyes upon Dinah, but she
was a considerable distance away, and he could not see that she stirred
so much as a finger. He wondered how long it would take Scott to reach
her, and began to wish ardently that he had been allowed to go instead.
The man was lame and he was sure that he could have covered the distance
in half the time.

And then while he waited and watched, suddenly there came a distant
drumming that told of an approaching train.

"The Northern express!" he said aloud.

Many a time had he stood on the bridge to see it flash and thunder below
him. The sound of its approach had always filled him with a kind of
ecstasy before, but now--to-day--it sent another feeling through him,--a
sudden, wild dart of unutterable dread.

"What rot!" he told himself, with an angry shake. "Oh, what rot!"

But the dread remained coiled like a snake about his heart.

The animal he held became restless, and he backed it off the bridge, but
he could not bring himself to go out of sight of that small, tragic
figure in the old mackintosh that sat so still, so still, there upon the
grassy slope. He watched it with a terrible fascination. Would Scott
never make his appearance?

A white tuft of smoke showed against the grey of the sky. The throbbing
of the engine grew louder, grew insistent. A couple of seconds more and
it was within sight, still far away but rapidly drawing near. Where on
earth was Scott? Did he realize the danger? Ought he to shout? But
something seemed to grip his throat, holding him silent. He was powerless
to do anything but watch.

Nearer came the train and nearer. Billy's eyes were starting out of his
head. He had never been so scared in all his life before. There was
something fateful in the pose of that waiting figure