'The die was cast, for a day of pleasure but marred by secret fears. I was content to remain a little longer, and then we set out for the station. More than once did my apprehensive heart, full of undefined forebodings, suggest the sound of a coming train upon the air, and once, perhaps, it was real, for, on reaching the hamlet of Elewyt, we found the station-gate shut and the platform untenanted. 'Lucien looked at his watch and grew pale. The hands still stood at five o'clock--it was now past seven, the hour at which I should have been at Madame Hoboken's, and the _last_ train had gone some minutes before. '"Gone!" replied Lucien, in a bewildered tone, to his informant; "and the next?" "'Not till seven to-morrow morning--from Brussels _viâ_ Vilvorde." 'Both of us were filled with dire dismay as we heard this. Could a voiture, a vehicle of any kind, be procured? Alas! there was not such a thing at Elewyt. 'We turned away with sickening hearts, and I must own that mine died within me. How was I ever to face grim and grave Madame Hoboken? I felt as if I had committed a terrible crime; I shed the bitterest tears, and I cannot tell you, here at least, how sweetly Lucien strove to console and soothe me. '"I must find you shelter for the night at yonder cottage, where we got the milk, till train time to-morrow," said Lucien; "for myself, I must find it where I may. Come, _petite_, take courage; a little time, and we shall be blessedly independent of everyone." 'On seeing Lucien's well-filled purse, the woman at the cottage was willing enough to accommodate us, especially on learning that we had lost the train; but she filled me with fresh dismay on informing me, with a cunning and penetrating glance there was no mistaking, that she had "but one _chambre à coucher_, which she sometimes let to passing English people and others who wished to avoid strangers; and you, monsieur----" '"Oh! I will sleep in the stable, or anywhere, madame, provided you can accommodate _mademoiselle ma sœur_," interrupted Lucien, colouring at the necessary falsehood which he told for the first time in all his blameless life, but it was one to protect me. 'Whether the landlady believed him or not I cannot say; but there was a strange and saucy twinkle in her eyes, and while in attendance upon us she provoked me by an air of discretion she adopted; from past experience apparently she was far too discreet to make sudden irruptions on our _tête-à-tête_ evening, however innocent it was, in outward seeming as she no doubt thought, and Lucien twisted his dark moustache angrily, as he muttered, '"_Sapristi!_ this hag does not live mid-way between Brussels and Antwerp for nothing."