Tilly. She turned while her father's
eyes were momentarily averted. "Listen," she said, in a low tone. "See
my husband when he returns home to-night; tell him that my father came
for me and that I had to leave. Tell him not to come up home."

The negro's bare pate nodded beside the trunk on his shoulder. He seemed
to understand, but made no other response, for Whaley's suspicious eyes
were now on him and his daughter.

"Get in! Get in!" Whaley gulped, and stood holding the cab door.

She obeyed, and he followed and crowded into the narrow seat beside her.
Through the glass of the opposite door she saw the white tombstones of
the town's burial-place, the roof of Lizzie Trott's house above the
trees, and the jagged, boulder-strewn hills beyond. The next moment the
cab had turned toward the station and was trundling along the rutted,
seldom-used street. Whaley's gaping pocket was within an inch of her
hand, and Tilly could have taken out the revolver, but she did not dare
do so, for that might fire him anew, and she had determined to run no
risks whatever. The smoke of factory chimneys streaked the horizon above
the town. She heard the bell of a switch-engine in the distant
railway-yard. They met a grocer's delivery-wagon. It was taking some
ordered things to the cottage, but Tilly dared not stop to explain, and,
as the grocer's boy did not recognize her, the two conveyances passed
each other. In an open lot some boys were playing ball. How could they
play so unconcernedly when to the young wife the whole universe seemed
to be whirling to its doom?

A little street-car was rumbling down an incline not far away. It seemed
to have a few passengers. What if one of them should be John? And what
if, on finding her gone, he should hasten to town and meet her father
before the train left?

"What time is it?" she asked her father, with forced nonchalance. He
made no answer, and she reached over and drew his open-faced silver
watch from the pocket of his waistcoat; but he had forgotten to wind it,
and it had stopped at three o'clock. She put the timepiece back with
difficulty, for he was leaning forward and made no effort to aid her.

They were soon within sight of the station. Groups of men and boys stood
about. She shuddered at the thought of meeting their gaze. Cavanaugh
might be among them, and she feared the consequences of her father's ire
on seeing him. And when the cab had stopped and they had alighted Tilly
noticed t