aid Lopez, moving away as though to make his exit
through the station.

Now Tenway Junction is so big a place, and so scattered, that it
is impossible that all the pundits should by any combined activity
maintain to the letter that order of which our special pundit had
spoken. Lopez, departing from the platform which he had hitherto
occupied, was soon to be seen on another, walking up and down, and
again waiting. But the old pundit had had his eye upon him, and had
followed him round. At that moment there came a shriek louder than
all the other shrieks, and the morning express down from Euston to
Inverness was seen coming round the curve at a thousand miles an
hour. Lopez turned round and looked at it, and again walked towards
the edge of the platform. But now it was not exactly the edge that he
neared, but a descent to a pathway,--an inclined plane leading down
to the level of the rails, and made there for certain purposes of
traffic. As he did so the pundit called to him, and then made a rush
at him,--for our friend's back was turned to the coming train. But
Lopez heeded not the call, and the rush was too late. With quick,
but still with gentle and apparently unhurried steps, he walked down
before the flying engine--and in a moment had been knocked into
bloody atoms.

CHAPTER LXI

The Widow and Her Friends

The catastrophe described in the last chapter had taken place during
the first week in March. By the end of that month old Mr. Wharton
had probably reconciled himself to the tragedy, although in fact it
had affected him very deeply. In the first days after the news had
reached him he seemed to be bowed to the ground. Stone Buildings were
neglected, and the Eldon saw nothing of him. Indeed, he barely left
the house from which he had been so long banished by the presence of
his son-in-law. It seemed to Everett, who now came to live with him
and his sister, as though his father were overcome by the horror of
the affair. But after awhile he recovered himself, and appeared one
morning in court with his wig and gown, and argued a case,--which was
now unusual with him,--as though to show the world that a dreadful
episode in his life was passed, and should be thought of no more. At
this period, three or four weeks after the occurrence,--he rarely
spoke to his daughter about Lopez; but to Everett the man's name
would be often on his tongue. "I do not know that there could have
been any other deliverance," he s