“We’re just in time,” he cried.  “She’s coming.  Quick!” He lifted her bodily over the side of the car, jerked two suitcases from beneath the curtains, and rushed frantically to the shelter of the platform sheds.

“I’ll leave you here, dear,” he was saying rapidly.  “Wait a second; there is your railroad ticket and your drawing-room ticket, too.  I’ll wake Derby when I get on board.  I have to run the automobile down to Henry’s garage first.  Won’t take ten seconds.  Don’t worry.  The train won’t be here for three or four minutes.  Get on board and go to sleep.  I’ll be two cars ahead.”

“Oh, Joe, won’t I see you again before we start?” she cried despairingly.

“I’ll be back in a minute.  It’s only half a block to Henry’s.  All I have to do is to leave the car in front of his place.  His men will look after it.  It’s all understood, dearest; don’t worry.  I’ll be here before the train, never fear.  Stand here in the shadow, dear.”  He gave her what might have been a passionate kiss had it not been for the intervention of veil and goggles.  Then he was off to the motor, his heart thumping frantically.  Standing as stiff and motionless as a statue against the damp brick wall, she heard the automobile leap away and go pounding down the street.  Apparently she was alone on the platform; the ticking of telegraph instruments came to her anxious ears, however, and she knew there were living people inside the long, low building.  The experience certainly was new to this tall, carefully nurtured girl.  Never before had she been left alone at such an hour and place; it goes without saying that the circumstances were unique.  Here she was, standing alone in the most wretched of nights, her heart throbbing with a dozen emotions, her eyes and ears labouring in a new and thrilling enterprise, her whole life poised on the social dividing line.  She was running away to marry the man she had loved for years; slipping away from the knot that ambition was trying to throw over her rebellious head.  If she had any thought of the past or the future, however, it was lost among the fears and anxieties of the present.  Her soul was crying out for the approach of two objects—­Joe Dauntless and the north-bound flyer.

Her sharp ears caught the sound which told her that the motor had stopped down the street; it was a welcome sound, for it meant that he was racing back to the station—­and just in time, too; the flyer was pounding the rails less than half a mile away.

Fenlock was a division point in the railroad.  The company’s yards and the train despatcher’s office were located there.  A huge round-house stood off to the right; half a dozen big headlights glared out at the shivering Eleanor like so many spying, accusing eyes.  She knew that all trains stopped in Fenlock.  Joe had told her that the flyer’s pause was the briefest of any during the day or night; still she wondered if it would go thundering through and spoil everything.