In a moment more Arnold was back in the sitting-room.
“Well?” he asked, anxiously. “What is it? Bad news from Lady Lundie’s?”
Anne closed and directed the letter to Blanche, which she had just completed. “No,” she replied. “Nothing to interest _you_.”
“Only to warn me. They have found out at Windygates that I am here.”
“Not in the least. I can manage perfectly; I have nothing to fear. Don’t think of _me_--think of yourself.”
“Thank heaven--no. But there is no knowing what may happen if you stay here. Ring the bell at once, and ask the waiter about the trains.”
Struck by the unusual obscurity of the sky at that hour of the evening, Arnold went to the window. The rain had come--and was falling heavily. The view on the moor was fast disappearing in mist and darkness.
“Pleasant weather to travel in!” he said.
“The railway!” Anne exclaimed, impatiently. “It’s getting late. See about the railway!”
Arnold walked to the fire-place to ring the bell. The railway time-table hanging over it met his eye.
“Here’s the information I want,” he said to Anne; “if I only knew how to get at it. ‘Down’--‘Up’--‘A. M.’--P. M.’ What a cursed confusion! I believe they do it on purpose.”
“I understand it--I’ll help you. Did you say it was the up train you wanted?”
“What is the name of the station you stop at?”
Arnold told her. She followed the intricate net-work of lines and figures with her finger--suddenly stopped--looked again to make sure--and turned from the time-table with a face of blank despair. The last train for the day had gone an hour since.
In the silence which followed that discovery, a first flash of lightning passed across the window and the low roll of thunder sounded the outbreak of the storm.
In the face of the storm, Anne answered without hesitation, “You must take a carriage, and drive.”
“Drive? They told me it was three-and-twenty miles, by railway, from the station to my place--let alone the distance from this inn to the station.”
“What does the distance matter? Mr. Brinkworth, you can’t possibly stay here!”
A second flash of lightning crossed the window; the roll of the thunder came nearer. Even Arnold’s good temper began to be a little ruffled by Anne’s determination to get rid of him. He sat down with the air of a man who had made up his mind not to leave the house.