The feeling of despair, of helplessness, of desolation, which overcame
Betty at that moment, remained with her as a poignant memory to the end
of her life. She was lost, as hopelessly lost as if she had been in the
midst of a solitary waste, though close at hand, perhaps only a few
yards away, were her own father and brother, the latter no doubt
desperately searching for her. Dr Trevor would make the best of his
way home with Cynthia, knowing his son to be as good a guide as himself.
Poor old Miles! He would have a bad time of it when he arrived home
alone;--yet he had not been to blame, for she herself had refused to
take his arm before leaving the Hall. "It looked so silly!" She had
intended to take it the moment they were in the street, but even that
one moment had been too long. As she heard the stranger's voice she
turned in a panic of fear, and tried to drag her hand from his arm, but
he held her tightly, saying, with an odd mixture of weariness and
impatience--
"Don't be foolish! You can do no good by running away. You can never
find your friends again in this blackness. Tell me where you want to
go, and I'll try to help you."
Betty trembled helplessly.
"But I must--I must try! It's a long way off--across the Park. Father
is here, and my brother, and some friends. I'll go back to the Hall--
they may go there to look for me."
"Look round!" said the strange voice, and Betty turned her head and
stared in amazement, for the great building had vanished as completely
as had Miles himself, and nothing was to be seen but a wall of darkness.
On every side she heard the movement of invisible forms, but their very
unreality added to the sense of desolation which possessed her. It was
terrible even to think of venturing alone through the ghost-like ranks.
Instinctively she clung more closely to her companion's arm, and, as if
recognising her feelings, his voice took a gentler, more reassuring
tone.
"Don't be afraid. I had a sister of my own once. You can trust me to
see you safely home. I am afraid it is no earthly use trying to find
your friends among all the thousands who are leaving the Hall. Better
tell me where you live, so that we can get there as soon as the rest of
your party, and save them needless alarm. Across the Park, you said?
The gates will be closed, of course, and in any case that would be the
last route to take. Tell me your exact address."
"Brompton Square--we turn off at Stanhope Terrace, just past the
Lancaster Gate Station. It is one of those squares lying between the
Park and Edgware Road."
"I know, I know. Its a long walk, but perhaps it will get lighter as we
go on. These dense fogs are often very local. Keep tight hold of my
arm, please. If we are once separated, it might not be easy to meet
again."
"No, indeed! I could not have believed it was so easy to get lost. My
brother was beside me one instant, the next--it was your coat-sleeve! I
hope I did not shake it too violently! I was so nervous and frightened
I did not think what I was doing."
She laughed as she spoke, her youthful spirits beginning to assert
themselves again, as her confidence was assured. The face of her
companion was unknown, but the tone of that quite, "Don't be afraid, I
had a sister of my own," had put an end to her fears. Here was an
adventure indeed--a full-fledged adventure! In anticipation she felt
the joys of relating her experiences to a breathless audience in the
schoolroom, and thrilled with importance. The stranger did not echo her
laugh, however, but merely murmured a few words of conventional
disclaimer and relapsed into silence. Betty could hear him sigh now and
then as they made their way onward--slowly feeling the way from point to
point through the eerie, all-enveloping gloom. Sometimes a brief
question to a link-boy would assure them that they were still on the
right road; sometimes they wandered off the pavement and were suddenly
aware of the champing of horses dangerously near at hand; sometimes for
a minute or two they stood still, waiting to find a clue to their
position; but through all the strange man preserved an unbroken silence,
until Betty's nerve gave way again, and she cried in plaintive, child-
like fashion--
"Oh, please would you mind talking a little bit! I'm frightened. It's
like a dreadful nightmare, feeling one's way through this darkness--and
when you are so silent, I feel as if you were a ghost like all the rest,
instead of a real live man."
"I wish I were!" returned the stranger bitterly. Then recovering
himself with an effort, "I beg your pardon," he said. "I am afraid I
have been very remiss. To tell the truth, I was lost in my own thoughts
when you came to me a few minutes ago, and I am afraid I had gone back
to them, and forgotten that I had a companion!"
Forgotten! Forgotten her very existence! A young man rescues a
beauteous maid--really and truly she had looked unusually well in all
her smart Christmas farings--from a position of deadly peril, and
straightway forgets her very existence! This part of the story, at
least, must be omitted from the home recital. Betty pursed her lips in
offended dignity, but in the end curiosity got the better of her
annoyance, and she said tentatively--
"They must have been very nice thoughts!"
"Nice!"
The foolish girl's word was repeated in a tone of bitterest satire.
"Interesting, then?"
"In so far as the last of anything is interesting, be the beginning what
it may!"
"The last!" It was Betty's turn to play the part of echo, as she stared
in amazement at the shadowy form by her side. "How could they be your
last thoughts? You seem quite well and strong. It isn't possible to go
on living and not to think."
"No, it is not, and therefore when thoughts become unbearable--"
He stopped short, and Betty felt a thrill of foreboding. The strange
silence, followed by the hopeless bitterness in the stranger's voice,
seemed to bespeak some trouble of overwhelming magnitude, and, viewed in
that light, his last words admitted of only one conclusion. Life had
become unbearable, and therefore he had decided to end it. Hitherto
Betty had carelessly classed all suicides as mad; but this man was not
mad; he was, on the contrary, remarkably sane and quiet in manner! He
was only so hopelessly, helplessly miserable that it did not seem
possible to endure another day's existence. Betty thrilled with a
strange new feeling of awe and responsibility. The hidden strength of
her nature, which had come to her as the result of being brought up to
womanhood in a household dedicated to God and His Christ, broke through
the veneer of youthful folly, and came triumphantly to the surface.
Her nervous fear dropped from her like a mantle, and she was possessed
by a burning longing to comfort and save. In the midst of the fog and
darkness God had sent to her a great opportunity. She rose to it with a
dignity which seemed to set the restless, self-centred Betty of an hour
ago years behind. Her fingers tightened on the stranger's arm; she
spoke in firm, quiet tones.
"I can guess what you mean! Forgive me for teasing you with my silly
questions when you are in such trouble. Do you think you could tell me
what it is? It seems a strange thing to ask, but I am no real person
to-night. I am just a shadow that has come out of the fog. I have not
even a face or a name. You might speak to me as safely as to the air
itself, and it might be a relief to put it into words. It is so
sometimes when one is in trouble."