the Morgue during all the next week, at any
hour from ten till six. It preyed upon his
mind—that feeling of having marred the
happiness of two such angelic beings.

What with the dull yellow overhead and
rumination on the sad catastrophe of the
sea-green romance, the traveller begins to
grow sleepy. Sleepy, even in despite of the
hollow roaring outside, as though the ear
were being held eternally to a gigantic shell;
in despite of wild crashing through tunnels
and of wilder swooping through stations,
whose lamps, red and green, whose
illuminated waiting-rooms would all dart past like
flashes of lightning; in despite of such alarums
I begin to doze, and must have dozed and
dreamed for a good round hour, when I
wake up wearily, and my eyes light on the
swarthy figure opposite, who is gesticulating
wildly and talking loudly at the top of his
voice. This time he was in a terrible rage
that swarthy bandit, eating his glossy
moustaches with passion, and snarling, dog-
fashion. He was standing up too.

"I tell you, it was no other than you led me
into this! You and your triply accursed
wheedling."

"You know, dearest Carlo, whatever I may
have said, I thought it would be for the best,"
the Velvet-Hood said. She seemed to be
weeping.

"Ah! sorceress," he replied, between his
teeth, "that smooth witch's tongue of yours!
The two tigers will hunt us down,—that is,
will hunt me down. And do you suppose
they will spare me? No! they will kill me,
like a dog: twice over, if they could! O
mon dieu! mon dieu! it makes me tremble
and shrink away to think of it." Here he
fell back and rolled on the seat in an agony
of terror.

"Dear friend," said Velvet-Hood in that
gentle tone of hers, "do not give way thus.
They do not know at this moment that we
have fled. We have escaped them entirely."

"And tell me this," he said, starting up,
"whose was that face I saw at the half-
opened jalousie. They were spying, the
devils!"

"Imagination, dear friend."

"Woman's nonsense! I tell thee they are
chasing us at this instant. They know it all,
and woe to me if they find us."

"It is the last train, mon ami, Heaven be
praised, so they must tarry until morning."

"Ay, but the brother is great with the
postes and the police direction. What may
not that do? Look to those long wires.
Besides, O mon dieu! mon dieu! is there not
a train some two or three hours later? O
heavens! if there should be!"

"No, no," said the Velvet-Hood, "why
disturb yourself with these delusions?"

"Monsieur is not asleep," he said, turning
sharply on me. "Monsieur will set us right
on the matter."

I was sure there was no such train; but
fortunately had a railway guide with me. He
consulted it greedily.

"There is, there is! " he said with a sort
of shriek. " Now we are lost, indeed! I
shall die! O, I shall die!"

"Allow me to look," I said, taking it from
him. He was right. There was a train that
started some hour and half after the express
train, but went no further than one half of
the road. "The gentleman is right," I said.
"There is a train not very far behind us
now."

"O, Scélérate! " he said, turning on her
and clutching her arm. "I could kill you
this instant!"

She gave a short shriek.

"Have a care, sir," I said indignantly.
"You must use the lady gently. I will suffer
no violence in this carriage."

He cowered down and cringed. "No, no,
monsieur, I did not so mean it. I have been
much fretted; I have a great trouble on my
mind." So they both relapsed into their
whispering again.

What a curious mystery was here? A
much more interesting mystery than that
of Edouard and Marie, as set out in the
sea-green romance. Something tragic, like
enough, to come of it; which issue I was not
to see in all probability.

An hour past midnight by the clock, the
figures being made out dimly by the yellow
light. Here slackening of pace, and stray
lights shooting by—signs as of nearing station.
By the railway guide it is discovered that
there is an important half-way house
approaching: centre where lines meet and
radiate away to right and left. Flashing of
lights going by slowly, illuminated chambers
seen through open doors, luxuriously
garnished with couches and mirrors—going by;
crystal pavilions with refection laid out—
going by; men calling out names—going by;
and then halt. Halt for some five-and-twenty
minutes, more or less.

The Night Express has disgorged itself of
a sudden; flooding the platform with
population. What will my companions do? The
bandit has been biting his nails in silence for
some minutes back.

"I am thirsty, O, so thirsty," says he at
last.

"Descend then, my friend, and refresh
yourself," suggests Velvet-Hood.

"What precious advice," he said in his
snarling way. "Should I not keep close and
retired? Yet she tells me: show yourself
abroad."

"It would be wiser, certainly," she said,
gently.

"But I have a thirst as of Inferno in my
throat. I must go. I can wrap this cloak
about my face."

"Do so, in Heaven's name." And he stole
past me out of the carriage; crawling down
the steps like a serpent. I was left with
Velvet- Hood.