- night! What will Louise and father say? We must
go home at once."
"Home," he repeats, bitterly, pointing to the north. "There is no home yonder for me. Listen, Helen!" He draws her to him fiercely. "If we part now it must be forever. I shall never go back. I cannot go back! Will you not come away with me—somewhere—anywhere? Hark!"
The whistle of the Montreal express sounds from the north.
The girl seems not to hear him. The long whistle of the express again echoes through the night.
"Helen, darling!" There is a world of yearning and entreaty in his voice.
She throws her arms about him and kisses him. "Yes, Derrick; I will go with you—to the end of the world."
The station agent regards the pair suspiciously. In the dim light of the kerosene lamps of the waiting-room their features are only partially discernible.
"Sorry," he says, "but this train don't stop except for through passengers to New York."
"But we are going to New York," almost shouts Derrick. "Quick, man!" The train has swept around the curve above the village and is thundering down the stretch.
"Wall, I guess I kin accommerdate ye," drawls the station master. He seizes his lantern and swings it about his head and No. 51 draws up panting in the station.
"Elopement, I guess," confides the station agent to the conductor, as Derrick and the girl clamber aboard the train.
The latter growls something about being twenty minutes late out of St. Albans, swings his lantern and No. 51 rumbles away in the mist and moonlight.
