She rose. Her heart beat so, it seemed to her to be a hostile thing hindering her. A panic terror drove her on, but exhaustion and physical weakness caught at her will, and shod her feet with lead. She walked down the platform, however, to the station-master. "The gentleman has gone to inquire at the inn. Will you kindly tell him when he comes back that I have made up my mind after all to walk to Marsland? He can catch me up on the sands." "Very good, Miss. But the sands aren't very safe for those that don't know 'em. If you're a stranger you'd better not risk it." "I'm not a stranger, and my cousin knows the way perfectly. You can send him after me." She left the station. In her preoccupation she never gave another thought to the station-master. But there was something in the whole matter that roused that person's curiosity. He walked along the raised platform to a point where he could see what became of the young lady. There was only one exit from the station. But just outside, the road from the town passed in a tunnel under the line. To get at the sands one must double back on the line after leaving the station, walk through the tunnel, and then leave the road to your right. The stony edge of the sands came up to the road, which shot away eastwards along the edge of the estuary, a straight white line that gradually lost itself in the night. The man watching saw the small figure emerge. But the girl never once turned to the tunnel. She walked straight towards the town, and he lost sight of her in a dense patch of shadow made by some overhanging trees about a hundred yards from the station. "Upon my word, she's a deep 'un!" he said, turning away; "it beats me--fair." "Hi!" shouted the porter from the end of the platform. "There's a message just come in, sir." The station-master turned to the telegraph office in some astonishment. It was not the ordinary signal message, or the down signal would have dropped. He read off. "If a lady arrives by 10.20, too late for Marsland train, kindly help her make arrangements for night. Direct her to White Hart Inn, tell her will meet her Marsland first train. Reply. Helbeck, Bannisdale." The station-master stared at the message. It was, of course, long after hours, and Mr. Helbeck--whose name he knew--must have had considerable difficulty in sending the message from Marsland, where the station would have been shut before ten o'clock, after the arrival of the last train. Another click--and the rattle of the signal outside. The express was at hand. He was not a man capable of much reasoning at short notice, and he had already drawn a number of unfavourable inferences from the conduct of the two people who had just been hanging about the station. So he hastily replied: "Lady left station, said intended to walk by sands, but has gone towards town. Gentleman with her." Then he rushed out to attend to the express. * * * * *