y to start.

"What is it?" she said as they drove to the station.

"Haemorrhage of the brain."

"The brain?"

"Apoplexy."

"Is he unconscious?"

"Yes."

She closed her eyes.

"He will not know me," she said.

Hannay was silent. She lay back and kept her eyes closed.

A van blocked the narrow street that led to the East Station. The driver
reined in his horse. She opened her eyes in terror.

"We shall miss the train--if we stop."

"No, no, we've plenty of time."

They waited.

"Oh, tell him to drive round the other way."

"We shall miss the train if we do _that_."

"Well, make that man in front move on. Make him turn--up there."

The van turned into a side street, and they drove on.

The Scarby train was drawn up along the platform. They had five minutes
before it started; but she hurried into the nearest compartment. They had
it to themselves.

The train moved on. It was a two hours' journey to Scarby.

A strong wind blew through the open window and she shivered. She had
brought no warm wrap with her. Hannay laid his overcoat over her knees
and about her body. His large hands moved gently, wrapping it close.
She thanked him and tried to smile. And when he saw her smile, Hannay was
sorry for the things he had thought and said of her. His voice when he
spoke to her vibrated tenderly. She resigned herself to his hands. Grief
made her passive now.

Hannay sank back in the far corner and left her to her grief. He covered
his eyes with his hands that he might not see her. Poor Hannay hoped
that, if he removed his painful presence, she would allow herself the
relief of tears.

But no tears fell from under her closed eyelids. Her soul was withdrawn
behind them into the darkness where the body's pang ceased, and there was
help. She started when the train stopped at Scarby Station.

As they stopped at the hotel there came upon her that reminiscence which
is foreknowledge and the sense of destiny.

A woman was coming down the staircase as they entered. She did not see
her at first. She would not have seen her at all if Hannay had not taken
her arm and drawn her aside into the shelter of a doorway. Then, as the
woman passed out, she saw that it was Lady Cayley.

She looked helplessly at Hannay. Her eyes said, "Where is he?" She
wondered where, in what room, she should find her husband.

She found him upstairs in the room that had been their bridal chamber. He
lay on their bridal bed, motionless an