rumble which subsided at last into the distance. A pair of whispering
lovers, arm in arm, who slunk into the shadow as he came abreast of
them, won from him a glance of sympathy. Just after he had left them
behind the shrill whistle of a locomotive jarring upon the silence
seemed to bring him a message from the woman he adored. Had he not
preferred to walk, this was the train he would have taken, and it must
have stopped not many hundred yards from her door. As he listened to
it thundering past almost parallel to him in the cut below he breathed
a prayer of blessing on her rest.

A little beyond this point the road curved and ran at a gradual
incline so as to cross the railroad track at grade about half a mile
farther on. This stretch was lined on each side by horse-chestnut
trees set near to one another, the spreading foliage of which darkened
the gravelled foot-path, so that Gorham, who was enjoying the
moonlight, preferred to keep in the middle of the road, which, by way
of contrast, gleamed almost like a river. He was pursuing his way with
elastic steps, when of a sudden his attention was arrested about a
hundred and fifty yards from the crossing by something lying at the
foot of one of the trees on the right-hand side. At a second glance he
saw that it was a woman's figure. Probably she was asleep: but she
might be ill or injured. It was a lonely spot, so it occurred to him
that it was proper for him to investigate. Accordingly, he stepped to
her side and bent over her. From her calico dress, which was her only
covering, she evidently belonged to the laboring class. She was a
large, coarse-looking woman, and was lying, in what appeared to Gorham
to be drunken slumber, on her bonnet, the draggled strings of which
caught his eye. He hesitated a moment, and then shook her by the arm.
She groaned boozily, but after he had shaken her again two or three
times she rolled over and raised herself on her elbow, rubbing her