“Oh, you can’t have a seat in this compartment, Miss,” said a somewhat garrulous old guard, coming up to her.  “This whole carriage is reserved for a wedding party—­the Duke and Duchess of Hereward, as were married this morning, and their graces’ retinue, which they are expected to arrive every minute, Miss.  But you can have a seat in this one, Miss.  It is every bit as good as the other,” concluded the old man, leading the way to a lady’s carriage some yards in advance.

“Reserved for a wedding party—­reserved for the Duke and Duchess of Hereward and their retinue!”

How her heart fainted, almost unto death, with a new sense of infinite disappointment and regret at what might have been and what was!  Reserved for the Duke and Duchess of Hereward!  Ah, Heaven!

“Here you are, Miss!” said the guard, opening the door of an empty carriage.

“How long will it be before the train starts?” inquired the fugitive in a low voice.

The guard looked at his big silver watch and answered: 

“Time’ll be up in three minutes, Miss.”

“But if the—­the—­wedding party should not arrive before that?” hesitatingly inquired Salome.

“Train starts all the same, Miss!  Can’t even wait for dukes and duchesses.  ’Gin the law!” answered the old guard, as he touched his hat and closed and locked the door.

Salome sank back in her deeply-cushioned seat, thankful, at least, that she was alone in the carriage.

And in three minutes the tidal train started.

CHAPTER XIX.

SALOME’S REFUGE.

Salome was scarcely sane.  Married that morning, with the approval and congratulations of all her friends, by one of the most venerable fathers of the church, to one of the most distinguished young noblemen in the peerage, who was also the sole master of her heart, and—­

Flying from her bridegroom this afternoon as from her worst and most hated enemy!

She could not realize her situation at all.

All seemed a horrible nightmare dream, from which she was powerless to arouse herself; in which she was compelled to act a painful part, until some merciful influence from without should awaken and deliver her!

In this dream she was whirled onward toward the South Coast, on that clear, autumnal afternoon.

In this dream she reached Dover, and got out at the station amid all the confusion attending the arrival of the tidal train, and the babel of voices from cabmen, porters, hotel runners, and such, shouting their offers of: 

“Carriage, sir!”

“Carriage, ma’am!”

“Steamboat!”

“Calais steamer!”

“Lord Warden’s!”

“Victoria!” and so forth.

Acting instinctively and mechanically, she made her way to the steamboat.

There seemed to be an unusually large number of people going across.