“Have I? Indeed I did not mean to do it. I quite forgot to look at my ticket,” said Annella, beginning to tremble in a manner most unworthy of damsel-errant seeking her fortune.
“You knew where you were going to, I suppose,” growled the guard.
“Indeed I didn’t; I only wanted to go as far by rail as this ticket would take me.”
“And that was to Howth, and you’ve left Howth twenty miles behind you.”
“My gracious!” was the dismayed exclamation of poor Nella.
“Come! that won’t do, you know; you’ve got to get out, and I shall give you in charge of a policeman. I see one coming now.”
“Don’t! pray don’t! See, I’ve two shillings left, that ought to be enough to pay for a twenty-miles’ ride in a third-class carriage,” said Annella, springing out, and thrusting her last money into the hand of the guard.
That exemplary officer pocketed the fee, and ran forward to open the door of a first-class carriage to admit a gentleman and lady who were waiting for seats.
The train moved on, leaving Annella standing alone by the roadside with her little bundle in her hand, but without a penny in her purse. Around her, in all directions, lay the barren and rolling heaths. Above her lowered the dark and threatening clouds. Night, storm, and darkness were approaching, and she was houseless, friendless, and penniless on the heath. She looked around her on all sides for shelter from the gathering tempest, but she could not see a sign of human habitation. Even the little wayside station, so busy a moment before, seemed now shut up and deserted.
In fact, the business of seeking her fortune did not seem half so pleasant as it had appeared in the morning, and she fairly wished herself home in good Mrs. Corder’s third-floor back; but only for a moment, and then her spirits rallied, and she walked on, saying to herself: