uggage to follow
him by goods-train, he jumped into a cab and rattled off to the Great
Western Station.

Shortly afterwards he took his seat in the railway carriage.

The guard paused on his whistle, to let into the next compartment to
Smith's a man of whom Stephen had caught but a hasty glimpse as he ran
across the platform at the last moment.

Smith sank back into the carriage, stilled by perplexity. The man was
like Knight--astonishingly like him. Was it possible it could be he?
To have got there he must have driven like the wind to Bede's Inn, and
hardly have alighted before starting again. No, it could not be he; that
was not his way of doing things.

During the early part of the journey Stephen Smith's thoughts busied
themselves till his brain seemed swollen. One subject was concerning
his own approaching actions. He was a day earlier than his letter to
his parents had stated, and his arrangement with them had been that
they should meet him at Plymouth; a plan which pleased the worthy couple
beyond expression. Once before the same engagement had been made, which
he had then quashed by ante-dating his arrival. This time he would go
right on to Castle Boterel; ramble in that well-known neighbourhood
during the evening and next morning, making inquiries; and return to
Plymouth to meet them as arranged--a contrivance which would leave their
cherished project undisturbed, relieving his own impatience also.

At Chippenham there was a little waiting, and some loosening and
attaching of carriages.

Stephen looked out. At the same moment another man's head emerged from
the adjoining window. Each looked in the other's face.

Knight and Stephen confronted one another.

'You here!' said the younger man.

'Yes. It seems that you are too,' said Knight, strangely.

'Yes.'

The selfishness of love and the cruelty of jealousy were fairly
exemplified at this moment. Each of the two men looked at his friend
as he had never looked at him before. Each was TROUBLED at the other's
presence.

'I thought you said you were not coming till to-morrow,' remarked
Knight.

'I did. It was an afterthought to come to-day. This journey was your
engagement, then?'

'No, it was not. This is an afterthought of mine too. I left a note to
explain it, and account for my not being able to meet you this evening
as we arranged.'

'So did I for you.'

'You don't look well: you did not this morning.'

'I have a headache. You are paler