Arms and the Woman

"No. It's one on my own account this time. I shall be back in

twenty-four hours. Goodby!" And I left him there, blinking in the dim

light of the candle.

I rushed into the street and looked up and down it. Not a vehicle in

sight. I must run for it. The railway station was a long way off. A

fine snow pelted my face. I stopped at the first lamp and pulled out

my watch. It was twenty minutes to three. What if the time-tables had

been changed? A prayer rose to my lips; there was so much in the

balance. Down this street I ran, rounding this corner and that. I

knocked down a drunken student, who cursed me as he rolled into the

gutter. I never turned, but kept on. One of the mounted police saw me

rushing along. He shaded his eyes for a moment, then called to me to

stop. I swore under my breath.

"Where are you going at such a pace and at this time of morning?" he

demanded.

"To the station. I beg of you not to delay me. I am in a great hurry

to catch the 3:20 south-bound train. If you doubt me, come to the

station with me." An inspiration came to me. "Please see," I added

impressively, "that no one hinders me. I am on the King's business."

"His Majesty's business? Ach! since when has His Majesty chosen an

Englishman to dispatch his affairs? I will proceed with you to the

station."

And he kept his word. When he saw the gateman examine my ticket and

passports and smile pleasantly, he turned on his heel, convinced that

there was nothing dangerous about me. He climbed on his horse and

galloped away. He might have caused me no end of delay, and time meant

everything in a case like mine. Scarcely had I secured a compartment

in a first-class carriage than the wheels groaned and the train rolled

out of the station. My brow was damp; my hands trembled like an

excited woman's. Should I win? I had a broken cigar in my pocket. I

lit the preserved end at the top of the feeble carriage lamp. I had

the compartment alone. Sleep! Not I. Who could sleep when the car

wheels and the rattling windows kept saying, "The innkeeper knows! The

innkeeper knows!" Every stop was a heartache. Ah, those eight hours

were eight separate centuries to me. I looked careworn and haggard

enough the next morning when I stepped on the station platform. I

wanted nothing to eat; not even a cup of coffee to drink.