large/8432/henrydunbar_1309_librivox_64kb_mp3/henrydunbar_30_braddon_64kb_26
large/8432/henrydunbar_1309_librivox_64kb_mp3/henrydunbar_30_braddon_64kb
English
8432
His inability to distinguish the names of the stations annoyed him. The delay attendant upon every fresh stoppage worried him, as if the pause had been the weary interval of an hour. HIS INABILITY TO DISTINGUISH THE NAMES OF THE STATIONS ANNOYED HIM THE DELAY ATTENDANT UPON EVERY FRESH STOPPAGE WORRIED HIM AS IF THE PAUSE HAD BEEN THE WEARY INTERVAL OF AN HOUR
 sea. The banker looked at his watch, and made a calculation about the time. It was now a quarter past five; the train was to reach Rugby at ten minutes to six; at six the London express left Rugby; at a quarter to eight it reached London; at half-past eight the Dover mail would leave London Bridge station; and at half-past seven, or thereabouts, next morning, Henry Dunbar would be rattling through the streets of Paris. And then? Was his journey to end in that brilliant city, or was he to go farther? That was a question whose answer was hidden in the traveller's own breast. He had not shown himself a communicative man at the best of times, and to-night he looked like a man whose soul is weighed down by the burden of a purpose which must be achieved at any cost of personal sacrifice. He could not hear the names of the stations. He only heard those guttural and inarticulate sounds which railway officials roar out upon the darkness of the night, to the bewilderment of helpless travellers. THE BLACK EDGE OF THE SEA THE BANKER LOOKED AT HIS WATCH AND MADE A CALCULATION ABOUT THE TIME IT WAS NOW A QUARTER PAST FIVE THE TRAIN WAS TO REACH RUGBY AT TEN MINUTES TO SIX AT SIX THE LONDON EXPRESS LEFT RUGBY AT A QUARTER TO EIGHT IT REACHED LONDON AT HALF PAST EIGHT THE DOVER MAIL WOULD LEAVE LONDON BRIDGE STATION AND AT HALF PAST SEVEN OR THEREABOUTS NEXT MORNING HENRY DUNBAR WOULD BE RATTLING THROUGH THE STREETS OF PARIS AND THEN WAS HIS JOURNEY TO END IN THAT BRILLIANT CITY OR WAS HE TO GO FARTHER THAT WAS A QUESTION WHOSE ANSWER WAS HIDDEN IN THE TRAVELLER'S OWN BREAST HE HAD NOT SHOWN HIMSELF A COMMUNICATIVE MAN AT THE BEST OF TIMES AND TO NIGHT HE LOOKED LIKE A MAN WHOSE SOUL IS WEIGHED DOWN BY THE BURDEN OF A PURPOSE WHICH MUST BE ACHIEVED AT ANY COST OF PERSONAL SACRIFICE HE COULD NOT HEAR THE NAMES OF THE STATIONS HE ONLY HEARD THOSE GUTTURAL AND INARTICULATE SOUNDS WHICH RAILWAY OFFICIALS ROAR OUT UPON THE DARKNESS OF THE NIGHT TO THE BEWILDERMENT OF HELPLESS TRAVELLERS
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