Page 35 - The English Carnival 7
P. 35

“Heaven knows,” said  I. “I cried something to  that  effect—”

            “Not  to  that  effect,  sir. Those were the  very  words. I know them well.”

            “Admit those were the  very  words. I said them, no doubt,  because  I saw you  below.”

            “For  no other  reason?”

            “What  other reason could I possibly have?”

            “You had no feeling  that  they  were conveyed to  you  in any  supernatural  way?”

            “No.”

            He wished me good-night, and held up his light. I walked by the side of the down Line
            of  rails  (with  a  very  disagreeable  sensation  of  a  train  coming  behind  me)  until  I  found
            the path. It was easier to mount than to descend, and I got back to my inn without any
            adventure.


            Punctual to my appointment, I placed my foot on the first notch of the zigzag next night,
            as  the  distant  clocks  were  striking  eleven.  He  was  waiting  for  me  at  the  bottom,  with
            his white light on. “I have not called out,” I said, when we came close together; “may I
            speak now?” “By all means, sir.” “Good-night, then, and here’s my hand.” “Good-night,
            sir,  and  here’s  mine.”  With  that  we  walked  side  by  side  to  his  box,  entered  it,  closed
            the  door, and sat  down by  the  fire.

            “I have made up my mind, sir,” he began, bending forward as soon as we were seated,

            and speaking in a tone but a little above a whisper, “that you shall not have to ask me
            twice  what  troubles  me.  I  took  you  for  some  one  else  yesterday  evening.  That  troubles
            me.”

            “That  mistake?”

            “No.  That some one else.”

            “Who is it?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Like  me?”

            “I  don’t  know.  I  never  saw  the  face.  The  left  arm  is  across  the  face,  and  the  right  arm
            is waved, violently  waved. This way.”

            I  followed  his  action  with  my  eyes,  and  it  was  the  action  of  an  arm  gesticulating,  with
            the  utmost passion and vehemence, “For  God’s sake, clear the  way!”

            “One  moonlight  night,”  said  the  man,  “I  was  sitting  here,  when  I  heard  a  voice  cry,
            ‘Halloa!  Below  there!’  I  started  up,  looked  from  that  door,  and  saw  this  Some  one  else
            standing by the red light near the tunnel, waving as I just now showed you. The voice




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            The Englsih Carnival-8
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