nd paused for a moment, looking up the long,
windy street. Then he crossed to the other side of the road, stepped over
a stile and disappeared, walking without haste, with firm footsteps,
along a cindered path which bordered the sluggish-looking canal. He had
come and gone, and she knew what fear was!

CHAPTER II

The railway station at Detton Magna presented, if possible, an even
more dreary appearance than earlier in the day, as the time drew near
that night for the departure of the last train northwards. Its long strip
of flinty platform was utterly deserted. Around the three flickering
gas-lamps the drizzling rain fell continuously. The weary porter came
yawning out of his lamp room into the booking office, where the station
master sat alone, his chair turned away from the open wicket window to
the smouldering embers of the smoky fire.

"No passengers to-night, seemingly," the latter remarked to his
subordinate.

"Not a sign of one," was the reply. "That young chap who came down from
London on a one-day return excursion, hasn't gone back, either. That'll
do his ticket in."

The outside door was suddenly opened and closed. The sound of footsteps
approaching the ticket window was heard. A long, white hand was thrust
through the aperture, a voice was heard from the invisible outside.

"Third to Detton Junction, please."

The station-master took the ticket from a little rack, received the exact
sum he demanded, swept it into the till, and resumed his place before the
fire. The porter, with the lamp in his hand, lounged out into the
booking-hall. The prospective passenger, however, was nowhere in sight.
He looked back into the office.

"Was that Jim Spender going up to see his barmaid again?" he asked his
superior.

The station master yawned drowsily.

"Didn't notice," he answered. "What an old woman you're getting, George!
Want to know everybody's business, don't you?"

The porter withdrew, a little huffed. When, a few minutes later, the
train drew in, he even avoided ostentatiously a journey to the far end of
the platform to open the door for the solitary passenger who was standing
there. He passed up the train and slammed the door without even glancing
in at the window. Then he stood and watched the red lights disappear.

"Was it Jim?" the station master asked him, on their way out.

"Didn't notice," his subordinate replied, a little curtly. "Maybe it was
and maybe it wasn't. Good night!"