At nine o'clock that night--a night so warm that the heat seemed to fan one--Verona (supposed to have gone to bed) and Zorah, the ayah, stole forth, and hurried away to the gate crossing. They arrived at the hut, and crept round to the far side, and then stood in the shadow, motionless. In twenty minutes' time Dom appeared, stepping delicately on the warm, dried-up grass, and carefully holding up her spotless white gown. She was closely followed by a syce, carrying a box and a bag. Arrived at the gate she stood still, and held a long whispered conference with old Jaggerie. "Truly, in fifteen minutes," he said aloud, "in fifteen she will pass. You can hear the train three miles away this still night. When she comes to the bend, I raise my lamp and all will be well," and forthwith he returned to his huka. The fifteen minutes seemed to Verona like fifteen hours. She felt cold with apprehension as she stood in the shadow of the hut, straining her ears, and catching no sound but the shrill chirping of insects in the air and the discordant cry of some night bird. If she missed the lamp, and was caught and unmasked--what then? If with jeers and derision Dom threw her aside and made her escape--what then? And, after all, what right had she to put herself forward in Dominga's life? She did it, since no one else could, to save the name of "Chandos," to fend off this blow from her father's bent head. Oh, here it was! She heard the train coming, and how her heart thumped! At first the sound was merely a dull rumble, becoming gradually louder and louder. Now it was at the turn, and Jaggerie shuffled out of the hut swinging a great square lantern. But what was _this_? Something from behind sprang on him, and dragged the lamp from his nerveless grasp, and there was instantly a thick darkness! The cries of Jaggerie--"A Shaitan! A Shaitan!" were mingled with the agonised voice of Dominga calling for the "light, the light, the _light_!" But none was forthcoming; no spark to penetrate an oppressive darkness--dense and thick as velvet. The train, the flaming engine approached, was upon them with a roar--the great furnace for a second illuminated a woman's figure at the gate, standing with extended arms; then the locomotive thundered by, with its rumbling string of carriages. The door of one of these stood wide, and in the aperture appeared the gesticulating form of a man. Another second, and the mail train for the north had swept by, and Dominga was left behind! For some time she appeared totally unable to realise this fact and remained rooted to the spot, staring after the rapidly receding red light with dazed, incredulous eyes. Meanwhile the syce had darted into the hut and brought forth a piece of blazing wood. Too late, alas! it was all too late!