Simon

by J. Storer Clouston

  XXVII

  FLIGHT

  On the morning after his visit from Mr. Carrington, Ned Cromarty tookhis keeper with him and drove over to shoot on a friend's estate. Hestayed for tea and it was well after five o'clock and quite dark when hestarted on his long drive home. The road passed close to a waysidestation with a level crossing over the line, and when they came to thisthe gates were closed against them and the light of the signal of the upline had changed from red to white.

  "Train's up to time," said Ned to the keeper. "I thought we'd have gotthrough before she came."

  There was no moon, a fine rain hung in the air, and the night wasalready pitch dark. Sitting there in the dogcart before the closedgates, behind the blinding light of the gig lamps, they were quiteinvisible themselves; but about thirty yards to their left they saw thestation platform plainly in the radiance of its lights, and, straightbefore them in the radiance of their own, they could see less distinctlythe road beyond the line.

  At first, save for the distant rumble of the southward bound train,there was no sign of life or of movement anywhere, and then all at oncea figure on a bicycle appeared on the road, and in a moment dismountedbeside the station. It was a girl in black, and at the sight of her, Nedbent forward suddenly in his driving seat and stared intently into thenight. He saw her unstrap a small suit case from the bicycle and leadthe bicycle into the station. A minute or two passed and then sheemerged from the ticket office on to the platform carrying the suit casein her hand. The bicycle she had evidently left in the station, and itseemed manifest that she was going by this train.

  "That's Miss Farmond, sir, from Keldale House!" exclaimed the keeper.

  His master said nothing but kept his eye intently fixed on the girl. Oneof the platform lamps lit her plainly, and he thought she looked themost forlorn and moving sight that had ever stirred his heart. There wassomething shrinking in her attitude, and when she looked once for a fewmoments straight towards him, there seemed to be something both sad andfrightened in her face. Not another soul was on the platform, and seenin that patch of light against an immensity of dark empty country andblack sky, she gave him such an impression of friendlessness that hecould scarcely stay in his seat. And all the while the roar of theon-coming train was growing louder and ever louder. In a few minutes shewould be gone--"Where?" he asked himself.

  "I'm wondering where she'll be going at this time o' night with naemair luggage than yon," said the keeper.

  That decided it.

  "Take the trap home and tell Miss Cromarty not to expect me to-night,"said his master, quickly. "Say I've gone--oh, anywhere you derned welllike! There's something up and I'm going to see what it is."

  He jumped quietly on the road just as the engine thundered between thegates in front. By the time the train was at rest, he was over the gateand making his way to the platform. He stopped in the darkness by therear end of the train till he saw the figure in black disappear into acarriage, and then he stepped into a compartment near the guard's van.

  "Haven't got a ticket, but I'll pay as I go along," he said to the guardas he passed the window.

  The guard knew Mr. Cromarty well and touched his cap, and then the trainstarted and Mr. Cromarty was embarked upon what he confessed to himselfwas the blindest journey he had ever made in all his varied career.

  Where was she going--and why was she going? He asked himself thesequestions over and over again as he sat with a cigar between his teethand his long legs stretched out on the opposite seat, and the traindrove on into an ever wilder and more desolate land. It would be verymany miles and a couple of hours or more before they reached any sort ofconceivable destination for her, and as a matter of fact this train didnot go beyond that destination. Then it struck him sharply that up tillthe end of last month the train had continued its southward journey. Thealteration in the timetable was only a few days old. Possibly she wasnot aware of it and had counted on travelling to--where? He knew whereshe had got to stop, but where had she meant to stop? Or where would shego to-morrow? And above all, why was she going at all, leaving herbicycle at a wayside station and with her sole luggage a small suitcase? Ned shook his head, tried to suck life into his neglected cigar,and gave up the problem in the meanwhile.

  As to the question of what business he had to be following Miss Farmondlike this, he troubled his head about it not at all. If she needed him,here he was. If she didn't, he would clear out. But very strong and veryurgent was the conviction that she required a friend of some sort.

  The stations were few and far between and most desolate, improbableplaces as endings for Cicely Farmond's journey. He looked out of thewindow at each of them, but she never alighted.

  "She's going to find herself stuck for the night. That's about the sizeof it," he said to himself as they left the last station before thejourney ended.

  Though their next stop was the final stop, he did not open the carriagedoor when the train pulled up. He did not even put his head far out ofthe window, only just enough to see what passed on the platform ahead.

  "I'm not going to worry her if she doesn't need me," he said to himself.

  He saw the slip of a figure in black talking to the stationmaster, andit was hardly necessary to hear that official's last words in order todivine what had happened.

  "Weel, miss," he overheard the stationmaster say, "I'm sorry ye'redisappointed, but it's no me that has stoppit the train. It's aff forthe winter. If ye turn to the left ye'll fin' the hotel."

  The girl looked round her slowly and it seemed to Ned that the way shedid it epitomised disappointment and desolation, and then she hurriedthrough the station buildings and was gone.

  He was out of the carriage and after her in an instant. Beyond thestation the darkness was intense and he had almost passed a roadbranching to the left without seeing it. He stopped and was going toturn down it when it struck him the silence was intense that way, butthat there was a light sound of retreating footsteps straight ahead.

  "She's missed the turning!" he said to himself, and followed thefootsteps.

  In a little he could see her against the sky, a dim hurrying figure, andhis own stride quickened. He had never been in this place before, but heknew it for a mere seaboard village with an utterly lonely country onevery inland side. She was heading into a black wilderness, and he tookhis decision at once and increased his pace till he was overhauling herfast.

  At the sound of his footsteps he could see that she glanced over hershoulder and made the more haste till she was almost running. And thenas she heard the pursuing steps always nearer she suddenly slackenedspeed to let him pass.

  "Miss Farmond!" said he.

  He could hear her gasp as she stopped short and turned sharply. She wasstaring hard now at the tall figure looming above her.

  "It's only me--Ned Cromarty," he said quietly.

  And then he started in turn, for instead of showing relief she gave ahalf smothered little cry and shrank away from him. For a moment therewas dead silence and then he said, still quietly, though it cost him aneffort.

  "I only mean to help you if you need a hand. Are you looking for thehotel?"

  "Yes," she said in a low frightened voice.

  "Well," said he, "I guess you'd walk till morning before you reached anhotel along this road. You missed the turning at the station. Give meyour bag. Come along!"

  She let him take the suit case and she turned back with him, but itstruck him painfully that her docility was like that of a frightenedanimal.

  "Where are you bound for?" he enquired in his usual direct way.

  She murmured something that he could not catch and then they fellaltogether silent till they had retraced their road to the station andturned down towards a twinkling light or two which showed where thevillage lay.

  "Now, Miss Farmond," said he, "we are getting near this pub and as we'veboth got to spend the night there, you'll please observe these few shortand simple rules. I'm your uncle--Uncle Ned. D'you see?"

  There wa
s no laugh, or even a smile from her. She gave a little start ofsurprise and in a very confused voice murmured:

  "Yes, I see."

  "My full name is Mr. Ned Dawkins and you're Louisa Dawkins my niece.Just call me 'Uncle Ned' and leave me to do the talking. We are touringthis beautiful country and I've lost my luggage owing to the dernedfoolishness of the railroad officials here. And then when we've had alittle bit of dinner you can tell me, if you like, why you've eloped andwhy you've got a down on me. Or if you don't like to, well, you needn't.Ah, here's the pub at last."

  He threw open the door and in a loud and cheerful voice cried:

  "Well, here we are, Louisa. Walk right in, my dear!"