There was nothing left for him now but to go on into unending night. He was moving out of an unspeakable past into a future of panic and emptiness. And then he tried to sleep, but strange and awful thoughts prevented him. The old lady awoke with a start, only to find that her feet were cold in spite of their hot water bottle, which was also cold, and was great negligence on the part of the railway company. Still, she hoped to be at the end of her journey soon. In that reflection the old lady was more fortunate than her fellow traveler, who had no such hope to console him. XXII The train went on and on. Its stoppings and startings were endless; the night grew very cold; the old lady, gathering her fur cloak around her, resettled herself in her corner and slept again. The chill in the heart of the Sailor was now a deadly thing. Repose for him was out of the question. Red and white striped phantoms converged upon him through the gloom; tier upon tier of massed humanity rose shrieking to the sky; but there was only one face that he could recognize, and it was a face he would never forget. At last the Sailor dozed a little. And then the train stopped once more, and an official of the railway company entered the carriage with a demand for tickets. The old lady found hers without difficulty, but the young man opposite had no ticket, it appeared. Also his behavior was so odd that at first the official seemed to think he was drunk. He had no idea of where he was going. But the next station, it seemed, was Marylebone, and that was as far as he could go. While the old lady watched from her corner grimly, the official was able to gather that this unsatisfactory traveler had come from Blackhampton, which, as he had been so unwise as to travel first class, meant a sovereign in coin of the realm. The traveler was able to produce a sovereign from a belt which he wore round his waist--a proceeding which seemed to stimulate the curiosity of his fellow traveler in the highest degree--and paid it over without a murmur. The official wrote out a receipt with an absurd stump of pencil. "Thank you, mister," said the young man. The train moved on. A few minutes later it had come to the end of a long and wearisome journey. The old lady was the first to leave the carriage. She was assisted in doing so by the ministrations of a very tall and dignified footman. As the Sailor stepped to the platform, bag in hand, there was a great clock straight before him pointing to the hour of midnight. Where was he? He had never heard of Marylebone. It might be England, it might be Scotland; in his present state of mind it might be anywhere. "Keb, sir?" The inquiry surged all round him, but the Sailor did not want a cab.