THE station at Raona is by the water, and the road down from the great cliff to the sea level is one that in a photograph seems to be an interminable gray ribbon strewn back and forth upon the landscape. Rennie drove down in a donkey cart he owned, and he was late. When he arrived upon the platform the passengers were all aboard and the train was slowly beginning to be in motion. He looked up and down the length of it, disappointed.
"Mr. Rennie! Mr. Rennie!"
Claire had seen him, and she called loudly from the open window of a wagon-lit compartment.
"Mr. Rennie! Here, Mr. Rennie!"
He looked again, then catching a glimpse of a waving hand, saw framed in the open window the face he sought. Upon it were the glistening streaks of heavy tears; but her eyes were wide and staring with an anxiety more poignant than her grief. The train was moving faster.
"Mr. Rennie!" she screamed. "Mr. Rennie!"
