Page:The Yellow Book - 07.djvu/279

 the evening the boss and the manager sat in their shirt-sleeves at the windows of the pay-waggons, struggling in desperation to keep pace with the demands of the surging crowd.

Inside, the flaring petroleum lights flickered over a dim, circular wall of upturned faces. A dull, continuous hum of voices filled the tent—over three thousand had been packed inside; and when the overture struck up, they were turning people away from the doors.

I wandered away, in the face of the driving rain, through the narrow, empty streets. Here and there, through a lighted window, I caught a glimpse of a family group, sitting round a shaded lamp, the women at their needlework, the fishermen smoking over a crumpled newspaper. The muffled strains of the band, playing "Nancy Lee," carried past me on the wind, grew fainter and fainter, and presently died away altogether.

And before me, all wrapped in darkness, the sea lay sullenly lashing the shore; to the east a lighthouse glimmered, and near at hand, moving quite slowly through the night, passed the three lights of a steamer.

We were to start at three to-morrow morning. The night looked ugly; out in the channel a heavy gale was blowing; the sky was starless and black as pitch.

11 p.m.—Maggie had spread us our supper on a table built of piled forage, and round it we took our places, each sitting astride a hay-truss. To-night she was busy with discreet attentions towards the lieutenant; for he had had a lot of trouble with one of his lions, and it was the talk of all the tents.

"Yes, he was a bit obstinate, wasn't he, Joe? I had a job to get inside the cage, him standing over the door pawing at me. That's