And off I was, and in a few minutes whirling toward London. It was destined, however, that I should not reach there as early as I expected. We were midway when the train slackened, crawled along a few hundred yards, then came to a standstill. "What's the matter?" I called to the guard, thrusting my head out of the window. "Engine broke down, sir," was the answer. "Can't get on." "Confound it!" I cried. "How long shall we have to wait?" "There's no knowing, sir. Not till to-morrow morning, perhaps." "But it is impossible for me to remain here all night." "Very sorry, sir. It doesn't depend upon me. Accidents will happen." Fretting and fuming would not mend matters, and I was compelled to submit. It turned out as the guard had indicated. Something else had occurred on the line which rendered it out of the question that another engine could be sent to our aid, and we did not arrive in London till the afternoon of the following day. I hastened at once to my chambers, then visited the office of the _Evening Moon_, and then proceeded to my mother's house, which I did not reach till six o'clock in the evening. The moment the street door was opened Emilia ran into the passage to greet me. "You have seen him," she cried, "and he has explained all." "Seen whom?" I asked, very much astonished, "and what is there to explain?" "You have not met M. Bordier, then," she said, falling back. "No," I replied. "I left the country suddenly yesterday, and an accident happened to the train. I was detained all night." "I sent you a letter also," said Emilia, "it was posted yesterday morning." "That accounts for my not receiving it. It must have arrived after my departure." I saw that she was agitated, and I led her to the sitting-room, where, after exchanging a few words with my mother, we were left alone. Then I learnt what had taken place. M. Bordier, it appears, had visited Emilia every day during my absence, and had observed in her signs of suppressed excitement which had caused him deep concern. At first he made no comment upon this change in her, but at length he questioned her, and, receiving no satisfaction, told her with delicate pointedness that he deemed it her duty to confide in him if she were in any trouble. Still she evaded his inquiries, and this with marks of such extreme distress that he became more pressing in his desire that she should be candid and straightforward with him. I will give what afterward transpired in Emilia's own words.