eyes searched vainly for this house, the young man in grey had sprung across the carriage, had stooped down and seized the pistol, and had flung it far out of the window over the Frenchman's head.
"Oh, take care!" cried Lily, for she saw him turn in a paroxysm of fury upon the young man in grey, and the next moment the two were locked in a fierce struggle on the carriage floor.
The train shrieked, and rattled, and banged, the two men wrestled with clenched teeth one to overpower the other, and Lily, standing as far out of the way as she could, pressed back her cries with trembling little hands.
Everything in the carriage was overset; newspapers, books, and papers were scattered on the floor. The maniac clutching hold of the bar of the net-rack to prevent his opponent from throwing him brought the whole affair down. Down with it came his own bag, insecurely fastened and hurriedly packed. Its mouth opened and it vomited forth a strange flood of heterogeneous contents: pomatum, socks, brushes, soap, medicine bottles full and empty, china dogs and shepherdesses looking like a hasty collection from a mantelpiece or chiffonnier, a large piece of bread, and quantities of fine cigars, which rolled into every corner of the carriage or were trodden under foot. And still the men wrestled, and still the train rushed forward, and Lily, very pale and tremulous, waited for the end. But she never felt one moment's doubt of the strength or capacity of the young man in grey. Nor, embarrassed as the maniac was by the heaving hanging cloak, was there ever any chance of his doing harm.
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"STILL THE MEN WRESTLED, AND STILL THE TRAIN RUSHED FORWARD."
"If I could but manage to tie his legs," said the young man, who had now got him pinioned in a corner by the arms, "I think it would settle him," and he looked about him for some sort of ligature. "Haven't you got some rugs? Then take one of the straps. Now, try to pass it round his ankles here. Yes! Now once more, and pull tight. Tighter still! There, that's right. Give me the other strap, and we'll put it round his arms—so."
The man lay on the floor of the carriage securely bound. He lay quiet and silent, only his eyes gave sign of life. And with these eyes still burning with fury and madness he followed the movements of the young people.
Lily was filled with pity for him.
"Poor creature," she said, "how terrible! How wretched he look! Do you think him in pain? Are those straps hurting him, perhaps? Do put this cushion under his
