"Good boy," said Minot. "I knew this game down here didn't satisfy you. May I be the first to wish you joy?"
"You? With a face like a defeated candidate? I say, cheer up! She'll stretch out eager arms in your direction yet."
"I don't believe it, Jack."
"Well, while there's life there's still considerable hope lying loose about the landscape. That's why I don't urge you to take the train with me."
An hour later Mr. Paddock spoke further cheering words in his friend's ear, and departed for the North. And in that city of moonlight and romance Minot was left (practically) alone.
He took a little farewell walk through that quaint old town, then retired to his room to read another chapter in the time-table. At four-twenty in the morning, he noted, a small local train would leave for Jacksonville. He decided he would take it. With no parlor cars, no sleepers, he would not be likely to encounter upon it any of the startled wedding party bound north.
The call he left did not materialize, and it was four o'clock when he awoke. Hastily in the chill dawn he bade farewell to town and hotel. In fifteen minutes he had left both behind, and was speeding toward the small yellow station set on the town's edge. He glanced feverishly at his watch. There was need of haste, for this train was made up in San Marco, and had had as yet no chance to be late.
He rushed through the gate just as it was being closed, and caught a dreary little train in the very act of pulling out. Gloomy oil lamps sought vainly to lessen the dour aspect of its two coaches. Panting, he entered the rear coach and threw himself and his bag into a seat.
Five seconds later he glanced across the aisle and discovered in the opposite seat Miss Cynthia Meyrick, accompanied by a very sleepy-eyed family!
"The devil!" said Minot to himself. He knew that she would see in this utter accident nothing save a deliberate act of following. What use to protest his innocence?