“Idon’tseethatthere’sanychance，anyway，ofmygettingoverintimenow，“heremarked。“Ifyou’lltakemeonwithyouasfarasNorwich，Icangoquietlyhomefromthere！“
“Youliveinthispartoftheworld，then？“Mr。Dunsterasked。
Theyoungmanassented。Againtherewasacertainamountofhesitationinhismanner。
“IlivesomedistancetheothersideofNorwich，“hesaid。“Idon’twanttospongeonyoutoomuch，“hewenton，“butifyou’rereallygoingtostickitoutandtryandgetthere，I’dliketogoon，too。
IamafraidIcan’toffertosharetheexpense，butI’dworkmypassageiftherewasanythingtobedone。“
Mr。Dunsterdrummedforamomentuponthetablewithhisfingers。
Allthetimetheyoungmanhadbeenspeaking，hiseyeshadbeenstudyinghisface。Heturnednowoncemoretohismap。
“Itwasmyidea，“hesaid，“tohireasteamtrawlerfromYarmouth。
IfIdoso，youcan，ifyouwish，accompanymesofarastheportatwhichwemaylandinHolland。Ontheotherhand，tobeperfectlyfrankwithyou，Ishouldprefertogoalone。Therewillbe，nodoubt，acertainamountofriskincrossingtonight。Myownbusinessisofimportance。Agolftournament，however，isscarcelyworthriskingyourlifefor，isit？“
“Oh，Idon’tknowaboutthat！“theyoungmanrepliedgrimly。“I
fancyIshouldratherlikeit。Let’sseewhetherwecangetontoNorwich，anyhow，shallwe？Wemayfindthattherearebridgesdownonthatline。“
Theyrelapsedoncemoreintosilence。Presentlytheguardreappeared。
“InstructionstotakeyouontoYarmouth，ifpossible，sir，“heannounced，“andtocollectthemileageatourdestination。“
“Thatwillbequitesatisfactory，“Mr。Dunsteragreed。“Letusbeoff，then，assoonaspossible。“Presentlytheycrawledon。TheypassedtheboattraininIpswichStation，wheretheystayedforafewmoments。Mr。Dunsterboughtwineandsandwiches，andhiscompanionfollowedhisexample。Thentheycontinuedtheirjourney。
Anhourormorepassed；thestormshowednosignsofabatement。
Theirspeednowrarelyexceededtenorfifteenmilesanhour。Mr。
Dunstersmokedallthetime，occasionallyrubbingthewindow-paneandtryingtolookout。GeraldFentolinsleptfitfully。
“Haveyouanyideawhereweare？“Mr。Dunsteraskedonce。
Theboycautiouslyletdownthewindowalittleway。Withthenoiseofthestormcameanothersound，towhichhelistenedforamomentwithpuzzledface:adull，rumblingsoundlikethefallingofwater。
Heclosedthewindow，breathless。
“Idon’tthinkwearefarfromNorwich。WepassedForncett，anyhow，sometimeago。“
“Stillraining？“
“Intorrents！Ican’tseeayardaheadofme。Ibetwegetsomefloodsafterthis。Iexpecttheyareoutnow，ifonecouldonlysee。“
Theycrepton。Suddenly，abovethestorm，theyheardwhatsoundedatfirstliketheboomingofagun，andthenashrillwhistlefromsomedistanceahead。Theyfeltthejerkastheirbrakeswerehastilyapplied，theswayingofthelittletrain，andthenthecrunchingofearthbeneaththem，theroarofescapingsteamastheirengineplougheditswayonintotheroadbed。
“Offtherails！“theboycried，springingtohisfeet。“Holdontightly，sir。I’dkeepawayfromthewindow。“
Thecarriageswayedandrocked。Suddenlyatelegraphpostseemedtocomecrashingthroughthewindowandthepolishedmahoganypanels。
Theyoungmanescapeditbyleapingtooneside。ItcaughtMr。
Dunster，whohadjustrisentohisfeet，upontheforehead。Therewasacrashallaroundofsplittingglass，afurthershock。Theywereboththrownofftheirfeet。Thelightwassuddenlyextinguished。
Withthecrashingofglass，thesplittingoftimber-ahideous，tearingsound-thewreckedsaloon，draggingtheenginehalf-wayoverwithit，slippeddownalowembankmentandlayonitsside，whatremainedofit，inafieldofturnips。
Astheyoungmanstaggeredtohisfeet，hehadsomehowasenseofdetachment，asthoughhewerecommencinganewlife，orhadsuddenlycomeintoanewexistence。Yethisimmediatesurroundingswerechargedwithuglyreminiscences。Throughagreatgapintheruinedsideofthesaloontherainwastearingin。Ashestoodup，hisheadcaughtthefragmentsoftheroof。Hewasabletopushbackthewreckagewitheaseandstepout。Foramomenthereeled，ashemettheviolenceofthestorm。Then，clutchingholdofthesideofthewreck，hesteadiedhimself。Alightwasmovingbackandforth，closeathand。Hecriedoutweakly:“Hullo！“
Amancarryingalantern，bentdoubleashemadehiswayagainstthewind，crawleduptothem。Hewasaporterfromthestationcloseathand。
“MyGod！“heexclaimed。“Anyonealivehere？“
“I’mallright，“Geraldmuttered，“atleast，IsupposeIam。What’sitall-what’sitallabout？We’vehadanaccident。“
Theportercaughtholdofapieceofthewreckagewithwhichtosteadyhimself。
“Yourtrainranrightintothreefeetofwater，“heanswered。“Therailshadgone-tornup。Thetelegraphline’sdown。“
“Whydidn’tyoustopthetrain？“
“Weweredoingallwecould，“themanretortedgloomily。“Weweren’texpectinganythingelsethroughto-night。We’damanalongthelinewithalantern，buthe’sjustbeenfoundblownovertheembankment，withhisheadinapoolofwater。Anyoneelseinyourcarriage？“
“Onegentlemantravellingwithme，“Geraldanswered。“We’dbettertrytogethimout。Whatabouttheguardandengine-driver？“
“Theengine-driverandstokerarebothalive，“theportertoldhim。
“IcameacrossthembeforeIsawyou。They’rebothknockedsortofsillylike，buttheyaren’tmuchhurt。Theguard’sstonedead。“
“Wherearewe？“
“AfewhundredyardsfromWymondham。Let’shavealookfortheothergentleman。“
Mr。JohnP。Dunsterwaslyingquitestill，hisrightlegdoubledup，andahugeblockoftelegraphpost，whichthesaloonhadcarriedwithitinitsfall，stillpressingagainsthisforehead。Hegroanedastheydraggedhimoutandlaidhimdownuponacushionintheshelterofthewreckage。
“He’saliveallright，“theporterremarked。“There’sadoctorontheway。Let’scoverhimupquickandwait。“
“Can’twecarryhimtoshelterofsomesortGeraldproposed。
Themanshookhishead。Speechofanysortwasdifficult。Evenwithhislipsclosetotheother’sears，hehadalmosttoshout。
“Couldn’tbedone，“hereplied。“It’sallonecandotowalkalonewhenyougetoutinthemiddleofthefield，awayfromtheshelteroftheembankmenthere。There’sbitsoftreesflyingalldownthelane。Neverwassuchanight！Folksisfairafraidofthemorningtoseewhat’shappened。There’samillblownrightoveronitssideinthenextfield，andthemaninchargeofitlyingdead。Thispoorchap’sbadenough。“
Gerald，onallfours，hadcreptbackintothecompartment。Thebottleofwinewassmashedintoatoms。Hecameout，draggingthesmalldressing-casewhichhiscompanionhadkeptonthetablebeforehim。Onesideofitwasdentedin，butthelock，whichwasofgreatstrength，stillheld。
“Perhapsthere’saflasksomewhereinthisdressing-case，“Geraldsaid。“Lendmeaknife。“
Strongthoughithadbeen，thelockwasalreadyalmosttornoutfromitsfoundation。Theyforcedthespringandopenedit。Theporterturnedhislanternonthewideningspace。JustasGeraldwasraisingthelidveryslowlytosavethecontentsfrombeingscatteredbythewind，themanturnedhisheadtoansweranapproachinghail。Geraldraisedthelidalittlehigherandsuddenlycloseditwithabang。
“There’sfolkscomingatlast！“theporterexclaimed，turningaroundexcitedly。“They’vebeenatimeandnomistake。Thevillageisn’taquarterofamileaway。Didyoufindaflask，sir？“
Geraldmadenoanswer。Thedressing-caseoncemorewasclosed，andhishandpresseduponthelid。Theporterturnedthelightuponhisfaceandwhistledsoftly。
“You’reaboutdoneyourself，sir，“heremarked。“Holdup。“
Hecaughttheyoungmaninhisarms。TherewasanotherroarinGerald’searsbesidestheroarofthewind。Hehadneverfaintedinhislife，butthefeelingwasuponhimnow-adeadlysickness，aswayingoftheearth。Theportersuddenlygavealittlecry。
“IfI’mnotabornidiot！“heexclaimed，drawingabottlefromthepocketofhiscoatwithhisdisengagedhand。“There’swhiskyhere。
Iwastakingithometothemissisforherrheumatism。Now，then。“
Hedrewthecorkfromthebottlewithhisteethandforcedsomeoftheliquidbetweenthelipsoftheyoungman。Thevoicesnowwerecomingnearerandnearer。Geraldmadeadesperateeffort。