"No. You are right, Madge: it's a poor compliment for a man to talk mere tattle to his sweetheart. I wonder, darling, if you would give me a keepsake, now that I am going away?" "No. I have no faith in keepsakes. I would not take any keepsake from you, because I shall need nothing to remind me of you when you are away." "Darling, nor I of you. And if things go wrong with me?" "They can't go wrong with you." "I mean if I come off worse in these business affairs." "That will not make any difference in you." "No. Nor in you, darling?" "No." He held her in his arms a while, and said no more. Thus they parted. It had been arranged that the two men should meet Mrs. Davenport at Euston. They were on the platform when she arrived. To their surprise she was not alone: Blake accompanied her. As soon as they came forward he shook hands with her, raised his hat, and retired. O'Brien and Paulton were greatly taken aback by Blake's presence. They busied themselves about her luggage, and then took seats in the same compartment with her. They were the only passengers in the compartment. As soon as the train was in motion she leaned forward to O'Brien, and said in a clear, distinct voice, the edge of which was not dulled by the rumble of the wheels: "You arrived the day before yesterday from Ireland?" "Yes," he answered, bending forward and looking into her inscrutable eyes. "You have been at Kilcash?" "Yes. I was there for about a month." "Did you hear a ghost story there?" He started and looked seriously at her. "Yes, I did. May I ask if you have heard anything about it?" "Yes. When I got back to Jermyn Street where I stayed, I found a letter there telling me that a ghost, the ghost of a man named Michael Fahey, had been seen in the neighbourhood of Kilcash." "At the Black Rock. I was going to tell the story yesterday at dinner, but it slipped by." "Do you know anything of this--apparition?" "I saw it myself, and two others saw it." "Where do we stop first?" "At Rugby." She took a note-book from her pocket, and wrote something in it. When the writing was finished, she tore out the leaf on which it was, and handed the leaf to O'Brien, saying: "Will you be kind enough to telegraph this from Rugby for me?" "It will have to be written on a form," he said, hesitatingly. "Will you oblige by writing it on a form for me? There is no reason why you shouldn't read it." When he got out at Rugby he read the message. It was addressed to Blake, and ran: "_Mr. O'Brien saw what I told you. Follow me to Ireland at once_." CHAPTER XXXV. THE TRAVELLERS. It was impossible for O'Brien to tell Alfred the nature of the telegram he had just despatched to Blake. It would not be seemly to whisper or to write, and to leave the compartment with the proclaimed intention of seeking a smoking carriage would be a transparent device. There was nothing for it but to sit still and keep silent.