For a while the baggage master fussed about the car, sorting out
packages for Ormond; then, courteously inquiring whether he could do
anything for them, and learning that he could not, he went forward into
his own den, leaving Marie Wiltz and George Z. Green alone in a baggage
car dimly illumined by a small and smoky lamp.
Being well-bred young people, they broke the tension of the situation
gracefully and naturally, pretending to find it amusing to travel in a
milk train to a fashionable southern resort.
And now that the train was actually under way and speeding southward
through the night, her relief from anxiety was very plain to him. He
could see her relax; see the frightened and hunted look in her eyes die
out, the natural and delicious colour return to her cheeks.
As they conversed with amiable circumspection and pleasant formality, he
looked at her whenever he dared without seeming to be impertinent; and
he discovered that the face she had worn since he had first seen her was
not her natural expression; that her features in repose or in fearless
animation were winning and almost gay.
She had a delightful mouth, sweet and humourous; a delicate nose and
chin, and two very blue and beautiful eyes that looked at him at moments
so confidently, so engagingly, that the knowledge of what her expression
would be if she knew who he was smote him at moments, chilling his very
marrow.
What an astonishing situation! How he would have scorned a short story
with such a situation in it! And he thought of Williams--poor old
Williams!--and mentally begged his pardon.
For he understood now that real life was far stranger than fiction. He
realised at last that Romance loitered ever around the corner; that
Opportunity was always gently nudging one's elbow.
There lay his overcoat on the floor, trailing over her satchel. He
looked at it so fixedly that she noticed the direction of his gaze,
glanced down, blushed furiously.
"It may seem odd to you that I am travelling with a man's overcoat," she
said, "but it will seem odder yet when I tell you that I don't know how
I came by it."
"That _is_ odd," he admitted smilingly. "To whom does it belong?"
Her features betrayed the complicated emotions that successively
possessed her--perplexity, anxiety, bashfulness.
After a moment she said in a low voice: "You have done so much for me
already--you have been so exceedingly nice to me--that I hesitate to ask
of you anything more----"
"Please ask!" he urged. "It will be really a happiness for me to serve
you."
Surprised at his earnestness and the unembarrassed warmth of his reply,
she looked up at him gratefully after a moment.
"Would you," she said, "take charge of that overcoat for me and send it
back to its owner?"
He laughed nervously: "Is _that_ all? Why, of course I shall! I'll
guarantee that it is restored to its rightful owner if you wish."
"Will you? If you do _that_----" she drew a long, sighing breath, "it
will be a relief to me--such a wonderful relief!" She clasped her gloved
hands tightly on her knee, smiled at him breathlessly.
"I don't suppose you will ever know what you have done for me. I could
never adequately express my deep, deep gratitude to you----"
"But--I am doing nothing except shipping back an overcoat----"
"Ah--if you only knew what you really are doing for me! You are helping
me in the direst hour of need I ever knew. You are aiding me to regain
control over my own destiny! You are standing by me in the nick of time,
sheltering me, encouraging me, giving me a moment's respite until I can
become mistress of my own fate once more."
The girl had ended with a warmth, earnestness and emotion which she
seemed to be unable to control. Evidently she had been very much shaken,
and in the blessed relief from the strain the reaction was gathering
intensity.
They sat in silence for a few moments; then she looked up, nervously
twisting her gloved fingers.
"I am sorry," she said in a low voice, "not to exhibit reticence and
proper self-control before a--a stranger.... But I--I have been--rather
badly--frightened."
"Nothing need frighten you now," he said.
"I thought so, too. I thought that as soon as I left New York it would
be all right. But--but the first thing I saw in my stateroom was _that_
overcoat! And the next thing that occurred was--was almost--stupefying.
Until I boarded this milk-train, I think I must have been almost
irresponsible from sheer fright."
"What frightened you?" he asked, trembling internally.
"I--I can't tell you. It would do no good. You could not help me."
"Yet you say I have already aided you."
"Yes.... That is true.... And you _will_ send that overcoat back, won't
you?"
"Yes," he said. "To remember it, I'd better put it on, I think."
The southern night had turned chilly, and he was glad to bundle into his
own overcoat again.
"From where will you ship it?" she asked anxiously.
"From Ormond----"
"Please don't!"
"Why?"
"Because," she said desperately, "the owner of that coat might trace it
to Ormond and--and come down there."
"Where is he?"
She paled and clasped her hands tighter:
"I--I thought--I had every reason to believe that he was in New York.
B-but he isn't. He is in St. Augustine!"
"You evidently don't wish to meet him."
"No--oh, no, I don't wish to meet him--ever!"
"Oh. Am I to understand that this--this _fellow_," he said fiercely, "is
_following_ you?"
"I don't know--oh, I really don't know," she said, her blue eyes wide
with apprehension. "All I know is that I do not desire to see him--or to
have him see me.... He _must_ not see me; it must not be--it _shall_ not
be! I--it's a very terrible thing;--I don't know exactly what I'm--I'm
fighting against--because it's--it's simply too dreadful----"
Emotion checked her, and for a moment she covered her eyes with her
gloved hands, sitting in silence.
"Can't I help you?" he asked gently.
She dropped her hands and stared at him.
"I don't know. Do you think you could? It all seems so--like a bad
dream. I'll have to tell you about it if you are to help me--won't I?"
"If you think it best," he said with an inward quiver.
"That's it. I don't know whether it _is_ best to ask your advice. Yet, I
don't know exactly what else to do," she added in a bewildered way,
passing one hand slowly over her eyes. "Shall I tell you?"
"Perhaps you'd better."
"I think I will!... I--I left New York in a panic at a few moments'
notice. I thought I'd go to Ormond and hide there for a while, and then,
if--if matters looked threatening, I could go to Miami and take a
steamer for the West Indies, and from there--if necessary--I could go to
Brazil----"
"But _why_?" he demanded, secretly terrified at his own question.
She looked at him blankly a moment: "Oh; I forgot. It--it all began
without any warning; and instantly I began to run away."
"From what?"
"From--from the owner of that overcoat!"
"Who is he?"
"His name," she said resolutely, "is George Z. Green. And I am running
away from him.... And I am afraid you'll think it very odd when I tell
you that although I am running away from him I do not know him, and I
have never seen him."
"Wh-what is the matter with him?" inquired Green, with a sickly attempt
at smiling.
"He wants to marry me!" she exclaimed indignantly. "_That_ is what is
the matter with him."
"Are you sure?" he asked, astounded.
"Perfectly. And the oddest thing of all is that I do not think he has
ever seen me--or ever even heard of me."
"But how can----"
"I'll tell you. I must tell you now, anyway. It began the evening before
I left New York. I--I live alone--with a companion--having no parents. I
gave a dinner dance the evening before I--I ran away;--there was music,
too; professional dancers;--a crystal-gazing fortune teller--and a lot
of people--loads of them."
She drew a short, quick breath, and shook her pretty head.
"Everybody's been talking about the Princess Zimbamzim this winter. So I
had her there.... She--she is uncanny--positively terrifying. A dozen
women were scared almost ill when they came out of her curtained corner.
"And--and then she demanded me.... I had no belief in such things.... I
went into that curtained corner, never for one moment dreaming that what
she might say would matter anything to me.... In ten minutes she had me
scared and trembling like a leaf.... I didn't want to stay; I wanted to
go. I--couldn't, somehow. My limbs were stiff--I couldn't control
them--I couldn't get up! All my will power--was--was paralysed!"
The girl's colour had fled; she looked at Green with wide eyes dark with
the memory of fear.
"She told me to come to her for an hour's crystal gazing the following
afternoon. I--I didn't _want_ to go. But I couldn't seem to keep away.
"Then a terrible thing happened. I--I looked into that crystal and I saw
there--saw with my own eyes--_myself_ being married to a--a perfectly
strange man! I saw myself as clearly as in a looking glass;--but I could
see only his back. He--he wore an overcoat--like that one I gave to you
to send back. Think of it! Married to a man who was wearing an
_overcoat_!
"And there was a clergyman who looked sleepy, and--and two strangers as
witnesses--and there was I--_I!_--getting married to this man.... And
the terrible thing about it was that I looked at him as though I--I
l-loved him----"
Her emotions overcame her for a moment, but she swallowed desperately,
lifted her head, and forced herself to continue:
"Then the Princess Zimbamzim began to laugh, very horridly: and I asked
her, furiously, who that man was. And she said: 'His name seems to be
George Z. Green; he is a banker and broker; and he lives at 1008-1/2
Fifth Avenue.'
"'Am _I_ marrying him?' I cried. 'Am _I_ marrying a strange broker who
wears an overcoat at the ceremony?'
"And she laughed her horrid laugh again and said: 'You certainly are,
Miss Wiltz. You can not escape it. It is your destiny.'
"'When am I to do it?' I demanded, trembling with fright and
indignation. And she told me that it was certain to occur within either
three months or three days.... And--can you imagine my n-natural
feelings of horror--and repugnance? Can you not now understand the panic
that seized me--when there, all the time in the crystal, I could
actually see myself doing what that dreadful woman prophesied?"
"I don't blame you for running," he said, stunned.
"I do not blame myself. I ran. I fled, distracted, from that terrible
house! I left word for my maid to pack and follow me to Ormond. I caught
the first train I could catch. For the next three months I propose to
continue my flight if--if necessary. And I fear it will be necessary."
"Finding his overcoat in your stateroom must have been a dreadful shock
to you," he said, pityingly.
"Imagine! But when, not an hour ago, I saw his name on the register at
the Hotel Royal Orchid--_directly under my name!_--can you--oh, can you
imagine my utter terror?"
Her voice broke and she leaned up against the side of the car, so white,
so quivering, so utterly demoralised by fear, that, alarmed, he took her
trembling hands firmly in his.
"You mustn't give way," he said. "This won't do. You must show courage."
"How can I show courage when I'm f-frightened?"
"You must not be frightened, because--because I am going to stand by
you. I am going to stand by you very firmly. I am going to see this
matter through."
"Are you? It is so--so kind of you--so good--so generous.... Because
it's uncanny enough to frighten even a man. You see we don't know what
we're fighting. We're threatened by--by the occult! By unseen
f-forces.... _How_ could that man be in St. Augustine?"