United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Women -- Social conditions -- Fiction
An hour later he bent his steps,--not to the lawyer's, nor yet to the
insurance office, but to the depot of the only railroad which passed
through the quiet, old-fashioned, and comparatively unimportant town
of V----.
The station agent was asleep upon a sofa in the reception-room, but
when aroused informed Dr. Hargrove that the down train bound south
had been accidentally detained four hours, and instead of being "on
time," due at eleven p.m., did not pass through V---- until after
three a.m. A lady, corresponding in all respects with the minister's
description, had arrived about seven on the up train, left a small
valise, or rather traveller's satchel, for safe keeping in the
baggage-room; had inquired at what time she could catch the down
train, signifying her intention to return upon it, and had hired one
of the carriages always waiting for passengers, and disappeared.
About eleven o'clock she came back, paid the coachman, and dismissed
the carriage; seemed very cold, and the agent built a good fire,
telling her she could take a nap as the train was behind time, and he
would call her when he heard the whistle. He then went home, several
squares distant, to see one of his children who was quite ill, and
when he returned to the station and peeped into the reception-room to
see if it kept warm and comfortable not a soul was visible. He
wondered where the lady could have gone at that hour, and upon such a
freezing night, but sat down by the grate in the freight-room, and
when the down train blew for V---- he took his lantern and went out,
and the first person he saw was the missing lady. She asked for her
satchel, which he gave her, and he handed her up to the platform, and
saw her go into the ladies' car.
"Had she a package or box, when she returned and asked for her
satchel?"
"I did not see any, but she wore a waterproof of grey cloth that came
down to her feet. There was so much confusion when the train came in
that I scarcely noticed her, but remember she shivered a good deal,
as if almost frozen."
"Did she buy a return ticket?"
"No, I asked if I should go to the ticket office for her, but she
thanked me very politely, and said she would not require anything."
"Can you tell me to what place she was going?"
"I do not know where she came from, nor where she went. She was most
uncommonly beautiful."
"Are the telegraph wires working south?"
"Why bless you, sir! they are down in several places, from the weight
of the ice, so I heard the station operator say, just before you came
in."
As Dr. Hargrove walked away, an expression of stern indignation
replaced the benign look that usually reigned over his noble
features, and he now resolutely closed all the avenues of compassion,
along which divers fallacious excuses and charitable conjectures had
marched into his heart, and stifled for a time the rigorous verdict
of reason.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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