CHAPTER III.—Mes Gages! Mes Gages!
NEXT morning came, chill and grey, and reminded me that I had two duties. I was to wait at home till Philippa came over from Mrs. Thompson’s, and I was also to hang about the road from the station, and challenge Sir Runan to mortal combat. Can duties clash? They can. They did! The hours lagged slowly by, while I read Sir Runan’s letter, read and re-read it, registered and re-registered (a pretty term of my own invention) this vow of vengeance.
Philippa’s ‘things ‘—her boxes with all her properties—arrived in due time.
Philippa did not.
I passed a distracted day, now bounding forth half way to the railway station to meet Sir Runan, now speeding back at the top of my pace to welcome Philippa at the ‘pike.
As I knew not by what train Sir Runan would reach Roding, nor when Philippa might be looked for, I thus obtained exercise enough to make up for months of inaction.
Finally the last train was due.
It was now pitch-dark and snowing heavily, the very time which Philippa generally chose for a quiet evening walk.
I rushed half-way to Roding, changed my mind, headed back, and arrived at the ‘pike.