The Passenger from Calais | Page 2

while the conductor busied
himself in preparing the tickets.
"What are we to do, Philpotts?" This was said to the maid in English.
"What if it should be--"
"Oh, no, never! We can't turn back. You must face it out now. There is
nothing to be afraid of, not in that way. I saw him, the gentleman, as we
came up. He's quite a gentleman, a good-looking military-looking man,

not at all the other sort--you know the sort I mean."
Now while I accepted the compliment to myself, I was greatly
mystified by the allusion to the "other sort of man."
"You think we can go on, that it's safe, even in this empty train? It
would have been so different in a crowd. We should have passed
unobserved among a lot of people."
"But then there would have been a lot of people to observe us; some
one, perhaps, who knew you, some one who might send word."
"I wish I knew who this passenger is. It would make me much easier in
my mind. It might be possible perhaps to get him on our side if he is to
go with us, at least to get him to help to take care of our treasure until I
can hand it over. What a burden it is! It's terribly on my mind. I wonder
how I could have done it. The mere thought makes me shiver. To turn
thief! Me, a common thief!"
"Stealing is common enough, and it don't matter greatly, so long as
you're not found out. And you did it so cleverly too; with such a nerve.
Not a soul could have equalled you at the business. You might have
been at it all your life," said the maid, with affectionate familiarity, that
of a humble performer paying tribute to a great artist in crime.
She was a decent, respectable-looking body too, this confederate whom
I concluded was masquerading as maid. The very opposite of the
younger woman (about her more directly), a neatly dressed unassuming
person, short and squat in figure, with a broad, plain, and, to the casual
observer, honest face, slow in movement and of no doubt sluggish
temperament, not likely to be moved or distressed by conscience,
neither at the doing or the memory of evil deeds.
Now the conductor came up and civilly bowed them towards their
carriage, mine, which they entered at the other end as I left it making
for the restaurant, not a little interested in what I had heard.
Who and what could these two people be with whom I was so strangely

and unexpectedly thrown? The one was a lady, I could hardly be
mistaken in that; it was proved in many ways, voice, air, aspect, all
spoke of birth and breeding, however much she might have fallen away
from or forfeited her high station.
She might have taken to devious practices, or been forced into them;
whatever the cause of her present decadence she could not have been
always the thief she now confessed herself. I had it from her own lips,
she had acknowledged it with some show of remorse. There must
surely have been some excuse for her, some overmastering temptation,
some extreme pressure exercised irresistibly through her emotions, her
affections, her fears.
What! this fair creature a thief? This beautiful woman, so richly
endowed by nature, so outwardly worthy of admiration, a despicable
degraded character within? It was hard to credit it. As I still hesitated,
puzzled and bewildered, still anxious to give her the benefit of the
doubt, she came to the door of the buffet where I was now seated at
lunch, and allowed me to survey her more curiously and more at
leisure.
"A daughter of the gods, divinely tall and most divinely fair."
The height and slimness of her graceful figure enhanced by the
tight-fitting tailor-made ulster that fell straight from collar to heel; her
head well poised, a little thrown back with chin in the air, and a proud
defiant look in her undeniably handsome face. Fine eyes of darkest blue,
a well-chiseled nose with delicate, sensitive nostrils, a small mouth
with firm closely compressed lips, a wealth of glossy chestnut hair,
gathered into a knot under her tweed travelling cap.
As she faced me, looking straight at me, she conveyed the impression
of a determined unyielding character, a woman who would do much,
dare much, who would go her own road if so resolved, undismayed and
undeterred by any difficulties that might beset her.
Then, to my surprise, although I might have expected it, she came and
seated herself at a table close to my elbow. She had told her companion

that she wanted to know more about me, that she would like to enlist
me in her service,