Much Darker Days | Page 4

had I sworn it.
'Don't you think,' Philippa continued, as a sudden thought occurred to
her, 'that as it is almost midnight and snowing heavily it would be more
proper for me to return to Mrs. Thompson's?'
There was no contesting this.
We walked together to the house of that lady, and at my suggestion
Philippa sought her couch. I sat down and awaited the advent of Mrs.
Thompson. She soon appeared.

A woman of about five-and-thirty, with an aquiline face, and a long,
dark, silky beard sweeping down to her waist. Whatever this woman's
charms might have been for me when I was still in the profession, she
could now boast of very few. Doubtless she had been in Sir Runan's
show, and was one of his victims.
I apologised for the lateness of my call, and entered at once on
business.
Mrs. Thompson remarked that 'my sister's health was not as it should
be,'--not all she could wish.
'I do not wish to alarm you; no doubt you, her brother, are used to it;
but, for a girl as mad as a hatter--well, I'll trouble you!'
'I myself can write M.D. after my name,' I replied,' and you are related,
I think, to Sir Runan Errand?'
'We are connections,' she said, not taking the point of my sarcasm. 'His
conduct rarely astonishes me. When I found, however, that this lady,
your sister, was his wife, I own, for once, I was surprised.'
Feeling that this woman had the better of it, with her calm, polished,
highbred sarcasms, I walked back to the 'pike, full of hopes of a sweet
revenge.
As, however, I had never spoken to a baronet before, I could not but
fear that his lofty air of superior rank might daunt me when we met
to-morrow.
CHAPTER III.
--Mes Gages! Mes Gages!
NEXT morning came, chill and grey, and reminded me that I had two
duties. I was to wait at home till Philippa came over from Mrs.
Thompson's, and I was also to hang about the road from the station, and
challenge Sir Runan to mortal combat. Can duties clash? They can.

They did! The hours lagged slowly by, while I read Sir Runan's letter,
read and re-read it, registered and re-registered (a pretty term of my
own invention) this vow of vengeance.
Philippa's 'things '--her boxes with all her properties--arrived in due
time.
Philippa did not.
I passed a distracted day, now bounding forth half way to the railway
station to meet Sir Runan, now speeding back at the top of my pace to
welcome Philippa at the 'pike.
As I knew not by what train Sir Runan would reach Roding, nor when
Philippa might be looked for, I thus obtained exercise enough to make
up for months of inaction.
Finally the last train was due.
It was now pitch-dark and snowing heavily, the very time which
Philippa generally chose for a quiet evening walk.
I rushed half-way to Roding, changed my mind, headed back, and
arrived at the 'pike.
'Has a lady called for me?' I asked the Sphynx.
'Now, is it likely, sir?' answered my fellow, with rough humour.
'Well, I must go and meet her,' I cried, and, hastily snatching a
bull's-eye lantern and policeman's rattle from the Sphynx, I plunged
into the darkness.
First I hurried to Mrs. Thompson's, where I learned that Philippa had
just gone out for a stroll after a somewhat prolonged luncheon. This
was like Philippa. I recognised that shrinking modesty which always
made her prefer to veil her charms by walking about after nightfall.
Turning from Mrs. Thompson's, I felt the snow more sharply on my

face. Furiously, blindly, madly it whirled here and drifted there.
Should I go for Sir Runan? Should I wait where I was? Should I whistle
for a cab? Should I return to the 'pike?
Suddenly out of the snow came a peal of silvery laughter. Philippa
waltzed gracefully by in a long ulster whitened with snow.
I detected her solely by means of my dark lantern.
I rushed on her, I seized her. I said, 'Philippa, come back with me!'
'No, all the fun's in the front,' shrieked Philippa. 'My quarter's salary!
Oh, my last quarter's salary!'
With these wild words, like bullets from a Gatling gun rattling in my
ears, I seized Philippa's hand.
Something fell, and would have rattled on the hard high road had it not
been for the snow.
I stooped to pick up this shining object, and with one more wild yell of
'My quarter's salary!' Philippa waltzed again into the darkness.
Fatigued with the somewhat exhausting and unusual character of the
day's performances, and out of training as I was, I could not follow her.
Mechanically, I still groped on the ground, and picked up