Page:The Trespasser, Lawrence, 1912.djvu/190

182 myriad pointed pennons, was harvested, saved for a trophy.

“It is a dreadful thing,” thought Siegmund, “to remain as a trophy when there is nothing more to do.” He watched the landing-stage swooping nearer. There were the trains drawn up in readiness. At the other end of the train was London.

He could scarcely bear to have Helena before him for another two hours. The suspense of that protracted farewell, while he sat opposite her in the beating train, would cost too much. He longed to be released from her.

They had got their luggage, and were standing at the foot of the ladder, in the heat of the engines and the smell of hot oil, waiting for the crowd to pass on, so that they might ascend and step off the ship on to the mainland.

“Won’t you let me go by the South-Western, and you by the Brighton?” asked Siegmund, hesitating, repeating the morning’s question.

Helena looked at him, knitting her brows with misgiving and perplexity.

“No,” she replied. “Let us go together.”

Siegmund followed her up the iron ladder to the quay.

There was no great crowd on the train. They easily found a second-class compartment without occupants. He swung the luggage on the rack and sat down, facing Helena.

“Now,” said he to himself, “I wish I were alone.”

He wanted to think and prepare himself.

Helena, who was thinking actively, leaned forward to him to say: