Graustark | Page 5

bothered him a little that he could not tell which one. He was more
than curious about a very beautiful young woman--in fact, he was,
undeniably interested in her. He pleasantly called himself an "ass" to
have his head turned by a pretty face, a foreign accent and an
insignificant coin, and yet he was fascinated.
Before the train reached St. Louis he made up his mind to change cars
there and go to Washington with her. It also occurred to him that he
might go on to New York if the spell lasted. During the day he
telegraphed ahead for accommodations; and when the flyer arrived in
St. Louis that evening he hurriedly attended to the transferring and
rechecking of his baggage, bought a new ticket, and dined. At eight he
was in the station, and at 8:15 he passed her in the aisle. She was
standing in her stateroom door, directing her maid. He saw a look of
surprise flit across her face as he passed. He slept soundly that night,

and dreamed that he was crossing the ocean with her.
At breakfast he saw her, but if she saw him it was when he was not
looking at her. Once he caught Uncle Caspar staring at him through his
monocle, which dropped instantly from his eye in the manner that is
always self-explanatory. She had evidently called the uncle's attention
to him, but was herself looking sedately from the window when Lorry
unfortunately spoiled the scrutiny. His spirits took a furious bound with
the realization that she had deigned to honor him by recognition, if only
to call attention to him because he possessed a certain coin.
Once the old gentleman asked him the time of day and set his watch
according to the reply. In Ohio the manservant scowled at him because
he involuntarily stared after his mistress as she paced the platform
while the train waited at a station. Again, in Ohio, they met in the
vestibule, and he was compelled to step aside to allow her to pass. He
did not feel particularly jubilant over this meeting; she did not even
glance at him.
Lorry realized that his opportunities were fast disappearing, and that he
did not seem to be any nearer meeting her than when they started. He
had hoped to get Uncle Caspar into a conversation and then use him,
but Uncle Caspar was as distant as an iceberg. "If there should be a
wreck," Grenfall caught himself thinking, "then my chance would come;
but I don't see how Providence is going to help me in any other way."
Near the close of the day, after they left St. Louis, the train began to
wind through the foothills of the Alleghenies. Bellaire, Grafton and
other towns were left behind, and they were soon whirling up the steep
mountain, higher and higher, through tunnel after tunnel, nearer and
nearer to Washington every minute. As they were pulling out of a little
mining town built on the mountain side, a sudden jar stopped the train.
There was some little excitement and a scramble for information. Some
part of the engine was disabled, and it would be necessary to replace, it
before the "run" could proceed.
Lorry strolled up to the crowd of passengers who were watching the
engineer and fireman at work. A clear, musical voice, almost in his ear,

startled him, for he knew to whom it belonged. She addressed the
conductor, who, impatient and annoyed, stood immediately behind him.
"How long are we to be delayed?" she asked. Just two minutes before
this same conductor had responded most ungraciously to a simple
question Lorry had asked and had gone so far as to instruct another
inquisitive traveler to go to a warmer climate because he persisted in
asking for information which could not be given except by a
clairvoyant. But now he answered in most affable tones: "We'll be here
for thirty minutes, at least, Miss--perhaps longer." She walked away,
after thanking him, and Grenfall looked at his watch.
Off the main street of the town ran little lanes leading to the mines
below. They all ended at the edge of a steep declivity. There was a drop
of almost four hundred feet straight into the valley below. Along the
sides of this valley were the entrances to the mines. Above, on the
ledge, was the machinery for lifting the ore to the high ground on
which stood the town and railroad yards.
Down one of these streets walked the young lady, curiously interested
in all about her. She seemed glad to escape from the train and its people,
and she hurried along, the fresh spring wind blowing her hair from
beneath her cap, the ends of her long coat fluttering.
Lorry stood on