CHAPTER XII

THE MARATHON

As if two gods should play some heavenly match, and on this wager
lay two earthly women.--_Shakespeare_.

An automaton, scarcely thinking, I gained the platform of the station.
There was a sound of hissing steam, a rolling cloud of sulphurous smoke,
a shouting of railway captains, a creaking of the wheels. Without
volition of my own, I was on my northward journey. Presently I looked
around and found seated at my side the man whom I then recollected I was
to meet--Doctor Samuel Ward. I presume he took the train after I did.

"What's wrong, Nicholas?" he asked. "Trouble of any kind?"

I presume that the harsh quality of my answer surprised him. He looked
at me keenly.

"Tell me what's up, my son," said he.

"You know Miss Elisabeth Churchill--" I hesitated.

He nodded. "Yes," he rejoined; "and damn you, sir! if you give that girl
a heartache, you'll have to settle with me!"

"Some one will have to settle with me!" I returned hotly.

"Tell me, then."

So, briefly, I did tell him what little I knew of the events of the last
hour. I told him of the shame and humiliation of it all. He pondered for
a minute and asked me at length if I believed Miss Elisabeth suspected
anything of my errand of the night before.

"How could she?" I answered. "So far as I can recollect I never
mentioned the name of the Baroness von Ritz."

Then, all at once, I did recollect! I did remember that I had mentioned
the name of the baroness that very morning to Elisabeth, when the
baroness passed us in the East Room! I had not told the truth--I had
gone with a lie on my lips that very day, and asked her to take vows
with me in which no greater truth ought to be heard than the simple
truth from me to her, in any hour of the day, in any time of our two
lives!

Doctor Ward was keen enough to see the sudden confusion on my face, but
he made no comment beyond saying that he doubted not time would clear it
all up; that he had known many such affairs.

"But mind you one thing," he added; "keep those two women apart."

"Then why do you two doddering old idiots, you and John Calhoun, with
life outworn and the blood dried in your veins, send me, since you
doubt me so much, on an errand of this kind? You see what it has done
for me. I am done with John Calhoun. He may get some other fool for his
service."

"Where do you propose going, then, my friend?"

"West," I answered. "West to the Rockie